


A Tempest in a Teacup

by sbarmarj



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Women, Bratva, Bratva!AU, F/M, Felicity is a BAMF, Gen, Other, The island didn't happen, Women Being Awesome, bratva!Oliver, but Oliver still disappeared for five years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 93,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbarmarj/pseuds/sbarmarj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity knows that the Bratva is dangerous. Her mother left that world for a reason, but when Felicity needs help she goes to her grandfather anyway. </p><p>Felicity thought she was smart enough to keep the Bratva from taking over her life. She never imagined that her grandfather's help would mean five years later every Bratva captain, save one, would be trying to marry her so they can take her grandfather's place. She never imagined that her boss at Queen Consolidated, playboy Oliver Queen, knew anything about the Bratva or that he was a captain in it. </p><p>Felicity never imagined that Oliver Queen would be the one thing standing between her and a forced marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Totally un-beta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Felicity fought the urge to fiddle with her hair. Just because she was newly blonde didn’t mean that she had to act like she was a pretty airhead. Anyway, she wasn’t here to use her looks. 

In fact, she tried to play down her looks since she hadn’t been sure what people would think when she walked into the tearoom. The point of her outfit was to be boring and unremarkable, unlike her normal fashion choices. That meant she had on a simply tailored dress that she would have never worn two weeks ago for all that it was black. Over it she had on a light pink cardigan that she doesn’t like much, but suited her new hair color and her roommate said she could borrow it. Maybe she should have worn more practical heels, but she had desperately wanted to be tall for this meeting. Her backpack didn’t really fit the look, but she didn’t have the money to buy a handbag that would fit the files she had brought with her. 

Since she resisted playing with her hair, she starts to pick at her cuticles instead. She can literally hear her mother saying, “Felicity, a lady keeps her bank account, her natural hair color, and her nerves private. Stop fiddling!” She almost listens to the voice in her head, but her mother would be livid if she knew what Felicity was planning to do. Right now it is easier to ignore her mother, or the voice in her head that sounds like her mother.

She reached for the newspaper that is next to the tea service. Maybe reading would calm her nerves. She read the headline saying that they are calling off the search for the Queen’s Gambit seven times before she decides that trying to read is futile. 

Felicity figures it would be weirder if she wasn’t nervous. The office she is sitting in is filled with furniture too comfortable and well worn to be ostentatious, but it’s still imposing. Somehow the desk and sitting area is arranged to make her feel like she doesn’t belong. Maybe that is because there is no computer in sight. The room is well decorated. Felicity has read enough of her mother’s home decorating magazines to recognize that the warm wood-tones of the desk and bookshelves is well matched to the deep green upholstered couch and chair that she is sitting in. Felicity is sure the art on the walls is real; one painting looks like a piece she had to learn about in art history. The clock that is ticking away is definitely an antique, and the silver samovor and fine china teacup that she was holding had to be relics from the old world. 

A more impressive display of wealth would not fit the simple pre-war brick building with a tearoom on the ground floor that she had walked into as soon as it opened. As she considered the building, the tearoom and this office, she decided that in Vegas the goal was too look richer than you actually were. In Brighton Beach the trick seemed to be look less powerful than you are. 

“Ms. Smoak.”

Felicity hadn’t heard the door or the man that walked in when she was considering what his decorating choices said about him.

At the sound of his voice, she jumped straight out of her chair, tried to turn around, catch her teacup, stretch her right hand out, and cutesy all at the same time. She is pretty sure that it looks like some weird modern dance move, but she manages not to spill her tea, so she is counting it as a win…or at least a draw. 

“Your mama took ballet to keep her tea in her teacup.”

“Mr. Zalutsky, I am not here to talk about my mother. I mean, I am not disagreeing with you. She is really graceful. I didn’t know she danced, but that makes lots of sense. I just thought it was her super power. Well that and running in heels. She is really good at that, but she taught me the trick is all in shifting your center of gravity—Uh, I have a proposition for you.” His eyebrow shots up and she thinks that he might be fighting the urge to smile, or is wondering if she is a lunatic. “A business proposition. I, uh, have a business proposition for you.”

She stops herself from talking by taking a sip of tea. It’s excellent black tea. Her mother use to make the same strong concentrate and let Felicity doctor it for her on the days her mother was really lonely. As a child Felicity thought sadness was cured by a cup of strong black tea with a squeeze of lemon and dollop of honey. 

Since she is drinking tea, Mr. Zalutsky also makes himself a cup. Felicity notices that he takes it strong like her mother and with the same lemon and honey. It also gives her a moment to collect her nerves, which she appreciates. 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to look like. She has seen photos of course. She did plenty of research before she came, but in person he looks a bit like Baby’s dad from Dirty Dancing. She would have died of happiness and cliché if he was wearing a tracksuit instead of pressed khakis and a faded light blue short sleeved button up. 

“Call me Leo. I am quite surprised you are here Ms. Smoak. You must know that your mother…your mother does not wish to do business with me.”

“I am not my mother.”

“So this is an act of rebellion?” He manages to sound both admiring and disapproving. 

“No. This is business.”

“Your mother has made it clear that you are not part of my business.”

“That’s between you and my mother. She is not a part of my business, and I chose my own business partners.”

He smiles slightly at her moxie. “Who says we will be business partners?”

“I do.”

“You are very sure of yourself, maybe too sure of yourself? Just because you are my granddaughter does not mean that I will do business with you.” 

He pauses for a sip of tea and she knows that he thinks he has the better hand. Its time to play her trump card. 

“You will do business with me. And not because I am your granddaughter. I can tell you who is skimming money from your rental units account every month.” 

She was expecting some reaction from him, but he only looks at her and drinks some more tea. He has spent weeks trying to find out who is stealing from him and she knows that he is no closer to an answer. 

“That is just a little thing. It’s not worth much. It’s not worth doing business with you against your mother’s wishes.” 

“For a little thing, its cost you half a million dollars, and the information is not for sale. It’s a gift; a token of my respect, and an example of my work.” She reaches into her backpack and hands him the file that she brought with her for just this purpose. He takes it from her and quickly reads through the papers. 

Felicity speaks while he reads, “It’s been Brian Stein this whole time. I included bank accounts, as well as deposit and transfer records for each transaction he made. You will also see that he has been selling certain information to competitors of yours on the side too. He made most of that information up as far as I can tell to make more money.” 

Stein had mixed just enough truth in to the whole thing to make sure that people kept buying the information, and didn’t kill him for selling them worthless secrets. The data that he fabricated were cleverly close to the real information. It was the subtly wrong details that first alerted Felicity to Stein’s nefarious activities. She followed the information to his accounts, which proved he was also the one stealing from her grandfather.

She continued, “He was laying the groundwork to blame an enforcer of yours, John Diggle. Mr. Diggle is not at fault according to my investigation. The final document is the bank transfer I arranged this morning. Stein didn’t spend much, and he invested wisely for such a stupid man. I’ve returned it all to your account—with interest.”

He started to laugh as soon as she finished speaking. His laughter is infectious and she joins him. It’s the first time she has really laughed since Cooper was arrested. 

She is almost certain her grandfather will have this Brian Stein killed. She should be bothered by that, but she isn’t really. It wasn’t morals driving Stein. If he had been working with the authorities, Felicity would have respected that and left him alone. If it was part of a plan to usurp power she could have understood his ambition. But, all he seemed to want was money, and he figured this was an easy way to get it. He was too lazy to make it honestly, and too impatient to make it illegally so he used dishonesty to fill his coffers. That he was setting up a loyal man to take the blame only made Felicity dislike him more. 

“I am in your debt. What’s your business proposition?” The way her grandfather sits up, and actually looks at her makes it clear to Felicity that their earlier negotiations were simple playacting. They are now really doing business now. 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances I need tuition for the next two years of MIT. I have put together a proposed itemized budget.” She handed him the second envelop from her backpack. He quickly read through her budget. She appreciates that he doesn’t ask about the unforeseen circumstances. While not relevant to their business deal, she knows that she would tell him if he asked. She thinks that he might understand why she let Cooper take the fall for her. He might not even judge her for it. 

He stops a few lines from the end, “Hair treatments?” 

“Yes, and you will see there is also a clothing allowance.” In for a penny, in for a pound. If she was going to make a deal with the devil it might as well be for everything including cute day dresses. She needed to build a new closet. It was easier than building a new life. 

“And if I pay for your education what do I get? Or will you be in my debt?” He doesn’t sound lecherous, but his words make it clear that he will call in the debt someday—with interest. The first thing Felicity learned playing cards in Vegas is that losing money is one thing, going into debt is another thing entirely. 

“No debt. I can pay you for my education now. I will make sure that all of your accounts are private. Your assets will be so well hidden Indiana Jones wouldn’t find them with gps and a map. It will take me two weeks to set up, and I will tell you who to hire to maintain it.”

He snorts, “I have paper and pencil for the accounts, a safe for security, and my business is simple.”

“Dedushka, you have 6 checking accounts, two brokerage accounts, a dozen CDs and four savings accounts in your name in this city alone. Should I tell you about your accounts in the Caymans’ and Luxemborg? Or how about your shell companies here and in Russia? I could detail the companies’ accounts and assets. They are really interesting. Did you know that you own a castle, I mean it’s a small castle, really, I guess more of a chateau, in the French Alps. According to Googlemaps, and the government satellite I borrowed, it looks pretty nice—like Sound of Music nice, but without the Nazis, which is good because obviously you hate the Nazis...but, uh, you know that don’t you? Anyway, you need me. I found all that out this morning in my Kermit sweatpants from my dorm room. It took me twenty minutes mostly because I was out of coffee so I had to beg some from the cute boy across the hall. He’s modeling fluid dynamics and he is on the crew team. So he sees me in my pajamas all the time…my point is he stays up late and gets up early and sees me then…I mean he always has coffee.” 

She could tell that something she said had confused him, maybe even upset him, but she wasn’t sure which part made him go red in the face. Maybe the Nazi comment? Or calling him grandpa?

“There is a boy in your house? Who gives you coffee and sees you in your pajamas?”

“Not in my house, in my dorm hallway. Its coed, it sounds more exciting than it is because really most MIT students are pasty. They need to learn to moisturize. And they think knowing the force that it takes to move a mass is better than going to the gym and lifting weights, so their shoulders aren’t really that impressive. They are pretty fun to code with—

“And I will be paying for you to live in this coed dorm and to code with these boys who don’t have shoulders?”

“Coding is not a code for…it really doesn’t matter. Does this mean we are doing business?”

“I will not agree to this budget.” He gets a pen from his desk and crosses a line off. “I will not pay for you to live in this coed dorm. You will live in an apartment off campus, with a doorman, and a companion to chaperone your study sessions.” He adds two expensive additions to her budget. 

“The off campus apartment would be quieter, which would help my studies, but I am not sure that a chaperone is really necessary.” She crosses the chaperone off the budget, she stops him before he can add it back to the list, “I could live with my boyfriend. I mean he wants me to move in with him and he has a place in Somerville. It would almost be like having a doorman.” Her statement isn’t really a lie. Cooper had talked about them getting their own place. That Cooper is gone makes it more a fabrication. Okay, a total falsehood, but he doesn’t know that. Sometimes even when you count the cards you still have to bluff to win. 

She is pretty certain that he doesn’t care about her having a chaperone, so much as he is trying to figure out how much she will let him dictate the terms of their agreement. If she gives in now it will set the tone for the rest of their relationship. 

He nods and the chaperone stays off the list.

“And you will go to dance class three times a week. None of this knocking over tea cups.” He also adds that her budget. 

“I already have classes and homework. I really don’t have time to study something else. Plus no one cares if I knock some tea over, as long as I don’t get it on a server.”

“I do not know what a server is, but I care about your tea staying in its cup.” 

“Is that a euphemism? Because my tea is none of your business.”

“You are my granddaughter. It is my business.”

Felicity is beginning to understand why her mother thought getting disowned was a good idea. “How about krav maga instead?”

“Ballroom dancing, three times a week with an appropriate partner.”

“Once a week, and I chose the style. No partner.”

“Ballroom, twice a week, and I chose your partner.”

“Ballroom, once a week, you chose the partner but I can veto them after the first lesson.”

He nods and adds the conditions to her budget. 

“You must visit your babushka and me for a weekend every month.”

“Once a year.”

“Every other month, high holidays, and our birthdays.”

“Twice a year and my birthday.” He pauses when she swaps their birthdays for hers. Its not her favorite day since her father left, and her mother tends to get maudlin each time she is reminded that Felicity is an adult. 

“Every semester you visit us, we visit you each semester, and you spend a week with us during the summer.”

She hadn’t really been expecting any added conditions and that he would care much what she did. Her babushka sent a necklace for her bat mitzvah, the one her great-babushka hid with a friend before the being taken away. Felicity’s mother let her keep it, but she wouldn’t let Felicity send a thank you. It’s the only thing she’s ever gotten from her grandparents, and she figured they didn’t much care about her when she didn’t even thank them for it. Her proposed budget was comfortable, but also something he could easily afford, and much cheaper than leaving all his information secured behind a firewall that wouldn’t stop a creepy tween looking for Zac Efron dick picks. Her mother wouldn’t like it if she knew about it, but her mother was in Vegas. And this negotiation had been fun.

“I think we can do business, Dedushka.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't have a beta so all mistakes are my own.

Five years later. 

“Babushka, my teacup is totally not being knocked over, or knocked up. There is no knocking of teacups of any kind…” 

Felicity’s face flushed. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having—let alone with her grandmother—while she finished work in her office in the Queen Consolidated building. At least it was after eight and everyone else in IT had left. She half listened to her grandmother critique her long hours. She knew exactly where her grandmother was sitting in her house in Brighton Beach drinking tea with a dash of vodka and emphatically gesturing even though Felicity couldn’t see it. 

“A pretty girl like you needs to try different types of tea. How are you suppose to know what’s best in your teacup?”

“I really don’t think that Deda would agree with you.”

“Your grandfather likes thinking he knows best, but he will tell you I am always right. That’s the secret to a good marriage. A man who knows his place, and makes good tea.”

Felicity laughed at her grandmother’s advice. She was definitely using tea as a euphemism. “Well, I would appreciate an actual cup of tea at home in my pjs. It’s been a long day.” 

She started shutting down her computer, and collecting her coat and purse. Her grandmother had called in the first place to remind her to leave the office before nine. 

“That Mr. Queen works you too hard. I still don’t understand why you had to move to Starling City. Your grandfather was happy to help you find a job in the city. You could have lived with us. It’s not right, a pretty girl like you all alone, staying late at work. You should be out drinking tea, and having fun. Your grandfather should have a word with that boy.”

“Baba. I like my job and its only Mr. Queen’s IT department, I mean not his department specifically, but his company’s, or at least the company with his name on it. He doesn’t have any idea who I am. I don’t think he knows that there is an IT department even. Anyway, I am leaving. I just walked out of my office… And how exactly is a tea importer in Brighton Beach going to have a word with my billionaire playboy boss?” 

Felicity reached the elevator and pressed the button for the basement garage. Several of her better modifications to her phone meant that she still had excellent reception, which, of course, her grandmother knew so Felicity couldn’t pretend to lose the signal. 

Her grandmother snorted at that specific description of Leo Zalutsky. He was a tea importer in Brighton Beach amongst other things so Felicity wasn’t lying, exactly. “Your grandfather and Mr. Queen share some business interests.” Felicity shook her head. They probably did, but just because the Pope was Catholic didn’t mean he knew the local parish priest. “I think Mr. Queen is a bad businessman. If he were smart he would know that the smartest, hardest working and prettiest person in his IT department—his whole company—is my granddaughter Felicity Smoak.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at her grandmother’s hyperbolic praise. Years of her grandmother’s unused Jewish parenting skills had found their release the first time she had dinner with her grandparents. 

Before that night Felicity knew three things about her grandmother: she dyed her hair blonde, she grew up in Brooklyn, and she took her tea black. At dinner Felicity learned her baba was dramatic, overwhelming, and had no qualms about micromanaging her granddaughter’s life. 

Felicity had assumed her grandfather was the mastermind of their partnership, but he was a mere apprentice when compared to her grandmother. Baba had reviewed their contract, increased her clothing allowance, and booked Felicity an appointment with a hair-dresser in Manhattan for the next morning because Baba decided Felicity’s newly dyed hair was the wrong shade of blonde for her complexion. And that was before dinner even started. At dinner when her grandfather told her grandmother about Felicity needing to learn to keep her tea in her teacup, Babushka determined Felicity’s first three dance partners. It took Felicity almost a month to realize each potential dance partner was handsome, single, and Jewish. 

Her grandmother was not subtle about her desire for more grandbabies. 

Felicity hadn’t known what her grandparents would be like. Her mother never intentionally spoke of her parents or her life before Vegas. Sometimes something slipped through and Felicity had hoarded those few clues about her grandparents. She used the little truths she knew to construct daydreams about a grandmother who baked cookies and taught Felicity to knit. She dreamed that her grandfather kept a candy dish in his office just for her and that he taught her how to whistle. They lived in a green house with a yard and sleepy lab and her mother had walked to school with her best friend everyday. 

Felicity knew none of that was true, but she had liked the daydream. She hadn’t expected to love the reality. Her deda did keep candy in his office, but it was because he had a truly epic sweet tooth. She learned that he read the sports section of the newspaper first every morning, and still mourned the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn. Her grandmother didn’t know how to turn on her oven but she knew the best kosher bakeries and the where to find the freshest bagels in every borough. 

“Baba, I am rolling my eyes at you. Literally rolling my eyes into the back of my skull. Like the creepy baby in that movie. You have to stop saying such ridiculous things about me. My eyes might get stuck.” Felicity snapped a quick selfie of her rolling her eyes and sent it to her grandmother. 

She could hear her grandmother tut-tutting over the photo. “Proper young ladies do not make faces like that, dear. Your lipstick is excellent though and it’s not ridiculous when it’s true.”

“Okay.” The doors to the elevator started to open. “I am getting in the elevator—Good evening Mr. Queen.” 

“Mr. Queen’s in the elevator? You should ask him to have a cup of tea. There is—

“Good night, Baba. Love you.” Felicity prayed that he hadn’t over heard her grandmother. She quickly hung up the phone before her grandmother could say anything. 

She reached up to push the button for the garage and saw that it was already lit up. No hope that Oliver Queen would get off on the next floor. 

“I’m sorry. She thinks that I need to drink more tea. Or put more tea in my teacup or knock more tea out of my teacup.” She didn’t remember Oliver Queen being this good looking. Maybe he just looked extra good when slightly confused by her blathering, which didn’t make any sense at all, but appeared to be true.

“Uh, I was talking with my grandmother. Tea is very important to her. I mean I like it too… I am going to stop talking now.”

Felicity was certain her face now matched her lipstick. She looked down at her shoes and started to recite prime numbers starting at one. If she did this for the rest of the elevator ride she might survive without saying anything mortifying. 

“I understand you can tell a lot about a person by the way that they take their tea.” Oliver sounded amused. “Babushkas care about those things.”

Felicity’s eyes shot up at his perfect pronunciation and use of babushka. Lots of people used different names for grandparents, names from the old work, but she didn’t really think that Oliver Queen was one of them. She was pretty sure that his mother was a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Oliver’s grandfather had been a groomsman at Kennedy’s wedding, and his grandmother was a Roosevelt. Maybe he picked it up from some Russian prima ballerina who was gorgeous, graceful, and never said inane things about tea. 

Felicity nodded and let it go. Oliver didn’t explain why he knew the Russian word for grandmother, or if he actually knew any babushkas who cared about tea. 

The rest of the elevator ride went quickly, though not quickly enough for Felicity. It felt like Oliver was looking at her, but every time she glanced at him he was staring straight ahead. The other problem with the ride is that every time she looked to see if Oliver was looking at her, she found herself fighting the urge to study him. Like pretty much everyone in the western world she wondered what he had done for the five years he disappeared. She understands running away after a tragedy. In fact, his father’s yacht was lost at sea right after Cooper was arrested and Felicity has never been able to separate the two things in her head. She almost took the job with Wayne Enterprises because Queen Consolidated made her think about the Queen’s Gambit and that made her think about Cooper. 

Her roommate her first year at MIT had had a raging crush on Oliver Queen. Lucy was always telling Felicity about who he was dating; who he was hooking up with; which parties he went to; what his favorite foods were. Lucy made such a big deal out of Oliver’s birthday party that Felicity still remembers that it’s August 15. Felicity roomed with Lucy her second year mostly because Lucy was the devil Felicity knew, and she still remembers how inconsolable Lucy was when Oliver Queen disappeared after his father’s memorial service. Lucy even asked Felicity to hack the NSA to find him. 

Obviously Felicity didn’t, mostly because it seemed like a stupid risk for no reason, but Felicity has always wondered where in the world Oliver Queen was.

Felicity had worked at QC for a year when he reappeared without so much as a word about what he had been doing. She found out he was back when Lucy texted her to ask if she had seen him yet. Lucy actually left her lab and her “fucking lame ass dissertation research” (direct quote) for a weekend to visit Felicity. Well really it was a visit so Lucy could go to Verdant, but Felicity had enjoyed the night they spent there dancing even if they hadn’t seen Oliver Queen. 

A year later it was weird to stand in her office and watch the press conference on the building’s front steps where his mother named him as acting CEO because she was moving to England to be with Mr. Steele who had accepted a position with BP. 

Now she was standing in the same elevator as Oliver. She thought about texting Lucy, but Lucy would never believe her without a picture and there was no way that was happening. 

When the elevator slowed to a stop, Felicity let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She really wanted to make it to her car without saying anything else that she regretted. 

Oliver politely gestured for her to exit first. 

“Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“You too.” Felicity thought that he wanted to say something else, but instead he nodded and turned towards the idling Rolls Royce that was waiting for him. 

Her car was parked at the other end of the garage. Now she could tell Lucy that she had seen Oliver Queen in the flesh. As she walked towards her car she started to text Lucy about sharing an elevator with Oliver Queen since there was no way that Lucy could peer pressure her into taking a picture now. 

She heard the car approaching but she thought that it was Oliver’s town car at first. It was only when the sound of the engine grew louder far too fast to be the town car that she looked up and realized that there was a large white van hurtling towards her. Her brain was telling her legs that they needed to move but her legs absolutely refused to listen. 

The van came to a screeching halt right in front of her and the back door opened right as Felicity registered that this was basically how every kidnapping in the movies went down. 

She saw two men in the back of the van. One jumped out and came running towards her. They shouted at her. At first she thought that the shock was making it impossible to understand what they were saying but then she realized they were speaking Russian. The man reached her, grabbed her arm, and was turning to pull her to van when the first gunshot went off. 

He fell to the ground, and pulled her down with him. 

Felicity could smell blood, but she didn’t think that it was hers, or at least she didn’t register anything that felt like a gunshot. Her left ankle radiated pain and she couldn’t imagine putting weight on it. She didn’t even try to stand up between her ankle and the gunshots that were ringing out from the van and the other side of the garage. 

Instead, she tried to crawl away from the van, but the man had fallen on left leg and she could not shake his dead weight off without causing her ankle to hurt so much she wanted to cry. Next time her trainer told her to army crawl she was going to make a real effort. It turned out it was good for more than a workout. 

The second man was trying to get out of the van, but each time he popped out from behind the half-closed door gunshots from the far side of the garage immediately made him duck back down. Felicity could hear the man was shouting at the driver in Russian. Felicity could only make out something that was probably, “We have to get her.” The man in the back of the van returned fire, but the shooter in the garage kept him pinned in the van. 

From where she was trapped she could see the van’s back license plate. By some miracle her phone was still in her hand, so she snapped a pic of the van and texted it to her dedushka. If they did get her it would give him something to start his epic retaliation. 

“Stay down!” 

Felicity turned towards the person yelling the command and met Oliver Queen’s eyes. He was crouched behind a car, maybe ten feet from her, just out of the van’s line of sight, holding a Beretta, a Bluetooth clipped to his ear, and looking a lot calmer then he had at the division meeting this morning according to her boss. 

“It’s going to be okay. Digg and I will cover you while you crawl over here.” He seemed certain that she was going to listen to him.

Of the two parties in the garage with guns, he was the one that wasn’t trying to kidnap her, which equaled major brownie points in his favor. She wasn’t certain why playboy Oliver Queen, nightclub owner and reluctant CEO, knew the finer points of close quarters combat, but he was the only ally she had at the moment. 

“I don’t know if I can. My ankle is hurt.” It felt so weak to admit that she was trapped. 

“Okay.” He started to speak and she realized that he was on a call with someone. “Digg, you catch that? How far out is back up? Hmm. Tell them to blow the damn gate if they can’t override the lock…Well they should carry C4… Figure it out.”

The gate…Felicity realized that this kidnapping was well planned. The kidnappers could’ve hacked the garage’s main gate to let them in and locked it behind them. They could use the same hack to let them out the back entrance that led almost directly to the highway. The garage was on a different system then the building’s main security and far less secure. It made sense to grab her here where they could control the entrances and exits, had a quick escape route, and few witnesses. 

What she was about to suggest wasn’t possible for any other QC employee, but she had been the person to integrate the garage’s new security system with the main buildings electronic keycodes. She had done her job, and put in a few overrides in QC’s electronic security system for a rainy day.

“Hold tight. I have some friends that will be here in—

She cut Oliver off before he could finish, “Use keycode 081587 to open the gate. The panel is on the north-side of the entrance.” Oliver looked at her like she had grown a second head. “I am not a dumb blonde.”

Oliver nodded, “Roy? Keycode 081587, northside panel.” Felicity heard the gate before Oliver confirmed that it was opening. He looked towards the gate, and spoke to his partner again, “Digg I need cover.” He started sprinting over to her as the shooting started. He didn’t help her to her feet, instead he scooped her up and held her close to his chest, clearly intending to shield her from any bullets. He swiftly moved back towards the cover of the car. 

She could just make out that two motorcyclists were headed towards the van. She couldn’t see the van but she heard it return fire before it started to squeal out of the garage. 

Oliver didn’t pause to put her down or ask if she was okay. He ran towards the elevator speaking the whole time. She realized he was talking to whoever was still on the call, “Roy and Sara go after that van.” She didn’t think the direction was necessary since the motorcyclists had immediately started to follow it out of the garage. “Digg find out where the hell QC security is and deal with the body. Call Dmitri.” He pressed the button for the elevator as soon as they reached it. “We are going to need him to deal with the police. Someone must have called them. I am taking her to my office. I can secure it until you get there…We’ll figure it out.” Oliver stepped into the elevator as soon as it arrived, and pressed the button for the floor with his office. 

Once the elevator door closed, Felicity gently pushed on his chest to get him to put her down. He looked at her and seemed to register for the first time since picking her up that he was in fact still carrying her. 

“You can put me down.”

He nodded and set her gently on her feet. As soon as she put weight on her left ankle she hissed in pain and started to topple over before he caught her. Oliver wrapped his arm around her waist so she could lean into him, and relieve her ankle. 

Once she stopped cringing, he gave her a look that seemed nothing like Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen Consolidated. Before she could say anything, or even thank him, he commanded,

“Who are you, and what does the Bratva want with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I was totally blown away by the response that the first chapter got and all of your comments and kudos make me so happy!


	3. Chapter 3

“Who are you, and what does the Bratva want with you?”

His voice was definitely meant to scare her into talking. But Felicity was raised by Donna Zalutsky Smoak. Her mother learned intimidation along with her ABCs. Donna mostly used her mastery of the skill to make sure that sleazy men tipped more than they planned, and to make Felicity eat her vegetables. Bottom line, it meant that Oliver Queen might sound scary, but Felicity was going to need more than that to be scared of him.

“How the hell do you know about the Bratva?” she asked instead of answering his question.

Felicity was confused about a lot of what just happened. Well not that confused. It was pretty simple. Some guys speaking Russian tried to kidnap her. What she couldn’t figure out was how Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy, managed to fight them off, and why he had friends on motorcycles with guns ready at his command.

The kidnapping was pretty self-explanatory. Oliver Queen was an epic mystery and that made Felicity very nervous.

“I asked first.”

“What are we, in third-grade? Or am I suppose to answer because you have a gun and you used your scary voice?”

Oliver sighed, and she was pretty sure that the tick of his lips was annoyance and not humor. He took a slow breath, “I’m sorry. I don’t know your name. I really should know the names of the people who keep QC running.”

“You know there are 1128 employees in the main QC building right? I mean there have to be thousands of people who work for you. There are over a thousand in the Gotham office. Actually 1071. I know because I had to figure out which one of them downloaded a nasty worm that was definitely coded by someone trying to steal QC’s secrets. Ugh. You probably don’t care, my point is are you really going to learn the names of everyone who works for you?”

“Yes. Starting with yours and what you do for QC.” He seemed absolutely certain that he could do it too.

“Oh.”

The elevator doors opened before she could say anything else. Oliver’s arm didn’t leave her waist, even though he as clearly exasperated with her intentional and unintentional evasions. He didn’t push her to walk faster, or pull her along as they hobbled to his office. It felt cheesy, but his presence felt comforting and caring and she was certain that everything was going to be okay.

Felicity decided to blame his shoulders for her feelings. Shoulders like his really could make a girl feel like everything in the world was a-okay.

“Felicity Smoak. I work in IT.”

He nodded his head as thanks, and Felicity was relieved that he wasn’t surprised or asked a stupid question when she said IT. Even after her display downstairs, she was sort of expecting him to make a comment about it since most guys did. Most of the time the comments were not inherently negative, but the way that guys always said “Oh that’s cool” made her feel like they expected her to say administrative assistant.

Oliver helped her to sit on one of the couches in his office. He immediately pulled a chair over and gently placed her ankle on it so it was elevated. When she grimaced slightly and tried to find a more comfortable angle, he added a pillow to make it more comfortable.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ms. Smoak? Coffee, water, maybe tea?”

He actually smiled when he asked her if she wanted tea. She’s seen Oliver Queen smile before. Well mostly smirk in paparazzi shots from before his dad’s death, but his expression now was nothing like that. She had always thought he looked a little sleazy and spoiled when he smirked. Now, most of the time, the photos she saw of him seemed to capture the emotions he thought that he was suppose to be showing. Lucy even said that this Oliver Queen was different from the man she obsessed over like only a teenage girl can.

This smile was sweet and sly and a little awkward, like he was out of practice. It’s a smile that’s meant to be shared, and she felt special when she smiled back at him.

Before she could tell him tea would be great, his cell phone started ringing.

“I’m sorry. I need to take this.” She waved his apology off. He nodded at her and moved towards his desk, answering his phone at the same time. “Queen.” The next thing Oliver said was in Russian. Felicity wished for the eight-millionth time that she actually spoke the language. She knows some phrases, mostly things her mother use to say, and she can recognize common words. If she is pressed she can string several sentences together, but she sounds like a lunatic six year old and her accent would make a cat cry according to her dedushka. Her grandparents offered to pay for a tutor, but she never made the time for it and she was never much good at learning languages that weren’t meant for computers anyway.

Oliver Queen on the other hand spoke Russian with a natural ease that she immediately envied.

It also added to her nerves that he knew the language so well.

She might not have hacked the NSA to find Oliver Queen when he first disappeared, but when he became her boss she did some digging. Mostly legal, and when that didn’t turn up anything she went looking for real. Even then she found nothing that was real proof of where he had been. At the time she thought that some government agency had wiped his history. Now she thinks it might be something scarier than a black-ops group.

It was hard to believe that twenty minutes ago she believed that the most exciting part of her night was going to be deciding if she wanted to wear her Ironman or Captain America pjs.

During his conversation, Oliver turned his back to her, and moved towards the far wall of windows at the other end of his office. She knew it wasn’t personal, and its not like she could understand what he was saying, but she felt excluded from the conversation and she was pretty sure that it involved her. She realized after several visits to her grandparent’s that her deda was unusually open about Bratva business with her. It helped that he had figured out almost immediately that the only secrets he would ever have from Felicity were the ones that she let him keep.

Felicity knew that her phone, even better her tablet, were the tools that she needed to use to figure out what was happening to her. She found her phone in the pocket of her jacket, she must have slipped it in when Oliver picked her up, but her purse wasn’t with her. She thought that she dropped it when the man fell on her. She needed to ask Oliver to have a security guard bring it up for her. She really didn’t want to wake Mrs. Mitchell up to get her spare key when she did finally make it home.

Her phone showed two text messages from her deda and one from her mother. She ignored the one from her mother, and opened the ones from her grandfather.

_Teacup did you get a flat tire?_

_Do you need me to call AAA?_

As codes go it wasn’t particular complex, but when they originally agreed to these phrases Felicity had appreciated the simplicity. She quickly texted him back to let him know it was a problem with her battery. It would buy her a few minutes to investigate what happened, but he was going to want to talk to her soon.

Even with her phone, it didn’t take her long to get into the Starling Police Department’s system. Oliver was right. Two people called in the gunshots, and one called in the van and motorcycles for street racing. It looked like the first patrol car had just arrived at the garage. She was tempted to hack its dashboard cam and see what was going on down there, but she could get the recording latter.

What she wanted was in QC’s network. She switched over and started to shift through the various security feeds. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for and to make a few changes.

“Ms. Smoak?”

Oliver’s voice startled her, and she jostled her ankle, which made her cringe and he looked guilty.

“I’m sorry. The police are going to want to talk to you. My lawyer will be here shortly. He will try to get them to agree to a meeting first thing tomorrow morning.”

That must have been who he was talking to on the phone; maybe it’s the Dmitri that Oliver told his driver to call. It’s hard to miss that Oliver called him his lawyer, not QC’s. Definitely Bratva.

“Its lucky he was near by.” Oliver stops. He was so sure of himself when the situation called for action, but Felicity noticed since they reached the office he has hesitated slightly before speaking. “We should talk about what you will tell the authorities.” He tries to sound gentle, which she finds funny since invariably he is about to ask her to lie to the police.

“I will tell them what happened. There have been a series of cyber-attacks meant to redirect QC’s bank transfers. I have been in charge of dealing with it, and today I received a threat that they would hurt me personally if I didn’t stop. I reported it to QC Security, it was deemed a low-priority threat, so we didn’t report it to the authorities, and then I crushed an attack this afternoon. Turns out the threat was more serious. I’ll cry a little and that will be it. In several months, when the FBI’s overworked analyst who gets assigned to this case goes over those attacks, she will find that it was conducted by the Triad. In fact the worm used for the attack will lead her to whole group of Triad hackers, the majority of the Triad’s corporate espionage group. She will get a nice promotion out of it, the Triad will get screwed, and I will be a mere footnote to the whole thing.”

Oliver didn’t show emotions like a normal person, or rather he didn’t show normal emotions. When he thought no one was watching, or forgot that he was suppose to be a charming flippant billionaire, his face stilled with singular focus, like a bird of prey on the hunt. As she talked his eyes tracked her face, he responded to each little movement she made and registered everything she said.

“Will they believe any of that?” For a second she considers telling him they will believe it because it’s the truth, but it doesn’t explain the Bratva. He is clearly too smart to believe that the Triad hired some Bratva thugs to do their work. The police on the other hand…

“They should.” She holds up her phone, “Its what I was doing while you were talking to your lawyer.” It helped that there had been a series of annoying cyber-attacks all trying to get at QC’s bank accounts. They hadn’t been orchestrated by the Triad, but that wasn’t what mattered. It was easy to make it look like she received a threat, that security had marked it a low priority, and to drop crumbs that would lead to the Triad as soon as someone looked.

It was an elegant solution.

“As you said, not a dumb blonde.” She smiles at the compliment. “But I still don’t know who you are Felicity Smoak.”

Since Oliver Queen picked her up in the garage, she has been trying to think of what to say to this question. Every way she’s played this out, she kept coming up with only one option—the truth. She was willing to bet against the house that he knew too much about the Bratva for her to make something up on the fly that he would believe. She was willing to bend the truth, and use facts in her favor, but outright lies caused more problems than she wanted. The truth it was.

“I’m Leo Zalutsky’s granddaughter.”

“You’re his Teacup?” Oliver didn’t even blink when he heard her grandfather’s name, but his eyes got lighter when he called her Teacup; somehow his eyes made her think of laughter.

“Worst. Pet name. Ever.”

So she sort of liked it when her grandparents used it, but the fact that they called her Teacup in public was horrifying. The fact that Oliver Queen knew the nickname was mortifying. The fact that he just used it makes her want to crawl into a deep dark corner in the server room and refactor code until pigs fly.

Oliver’s cell rang again, and he looked chagrinned that they couldn’t manage a conversation without interruption.

“Digg, I could use you up here…As soon as possible…Dmitri can handle it.” Oliver hung up without saying good-bye. “Well that explains Roman Bespalov trying to kidnap you.”

Felicity was taken aback by his calm tone. Did he think that these things happened everyday? What was his life like that this could be so nonchalant about a kidnapping attempt?

In the five years that she has been connected to the Bratva, nothing like this has happened before. She has never been a target, and even her grandfather enjoyed a certain amount of safety. He was too powerful to be challenged directly, and the few times anyone had even whispered about quietly usurping his position she ruined them. If anything her grandfather’s reputation as a ruthless and absolute leader had grown stronger since that June morning when he bargained for her love.

“No, it really doesn’t explain it. I need to call my grandfather.” Talking to Deda was the best place to start unraveling this mess.

“Do you want me to step out?”

“Stay. I am guessing he is going to want to talk to you.” Oliver nodded and moved over to his desk to give her some semblance of space.

Before she finished dialing, out of the corner of her eye she saw the elevator opening.

“John!” She tried to get up while hanging up the call, but forgot that her ankle was out of commission, and tripped over the chair that it was resting on. Somehow, Oliver made it across the office and caught her before she fell, but she couldn’t stop herself from gasping from the pain in her ankle.

“You still have two left feet.” Since she can’t make it to him, John came over and gave her a hug that was hampered by Oliver refusing to let go of her. Felicity stretched around Oliver to give John a warm squeeze and a kiss on his cheek. When she let go of him, Oliver helped her back to the couch and sat next to her. John seemed generally amused by the whole thing as he took the chair across from her, but he always enjoyed life when Felicity was around.

“I should’ve put together that ‘Digg’ was you.”

“Its nice to know that you are a mere mortal.” John handed Felicity her purse, which he brought up with him.

“Even with two left feet, I am still a better dancer than you are,” John laughed at her weak comeback. “Plus, I was distracted by the men with guns trying to kidnap me.

“Have you talked to your grandfather yet?” John’s path to the Bratva was circuitous, and like Felicity, he sometimes missed its subtleties having not grown up in its fold, but he was very astute at reading the actions of others. Like her, he knew that whatever had happened downstairs was because of something Leo had done.

“I was calling him when you arrived.” She picked up her phone and redialed.

It rang twice before her grandfather picked up, “Teacup, is your car working?”

“Deda, I am with Oliver Queen and John Diggle. They stopped Roman Bespalov from kidnapping me thirty minutes ago. What is going on?”

“Business is a little competitive right now.” She didn’t really appreciate her grandfather’s talent for understatement.

“By competitive you mean that I am a target?”

“Let me speak to Queen.”

“You are on speaker phone. He and John can hear you.”

Her grandfather started to speak in Russian. He knew she didn’t speak the language well enough to follow what he was saying.

“Dedushka, if you don’t speak English I am empting all of your bank accounts and donating the money to the ballet.” John didn’t look surprised that she would threaten her grandfather; he had seen her do it before. Oliver tensed slightly when she spoke, as though he was ready to guard her if there was an attack.

“Felicity, it’s complicated.” He didn’t whine, and he didn’t yell at her, but it’s the closest her grandfather has ever sounded to telling her to behave. After everything else that’s happened she really didn’t want to deal with him all of sudden trying to protect her by keeping her in the dark.

“Thank goodness I am not a dumb blond. I am sure that I will understand these complications once you tell me what the hell is going on. If you don’t, I am calling Baba.”

Her grandfather sighed, “She’s already told me that I am an idiot.” In fact, Felicity thought heard Sophie in the background calling him an idiot as he spoke. “I’m sick Felicity.”

He said it with such gravity that she knew he didn’t mean he had a head cold, or an upset or a sore throat. Her stomach dropped a thousand times farther than it did when the van came hurtling at her in the garage.

“What is it?”

“Cancer. It’s a bitch, sweetheart.”

“How long?”

“I was diagnosed two months ago.”

“No, that’s not…That’s when Baba really started to obsess about how late I was working. You updated my home security system six weeks ago. And she keeps calling to ask if I knew how Mr. Queen liked his tea. I assumed she just had a little crush, which I totally understood, even before I felt his shoulders, John’s might be bigger but…I am shutting up on three. One. Two. Three.”

It felt stupid to count herself down, but it actually worked when her mouth ran away from her. She hadn’t registered Oliver’s reaction to any of what she said, even the comment about his shoulders. Felicity was too busy adding up bits and pieces from the last few weeks and realizing that she hadn’t noticed the important parts of what was happening around her.

“The captains know, don’t they? And they want to know who will be the new pakhan. This is bad isn’t?” She didn’t need her grandfather to confirm what she knew was going to be an all out succession war, if it wasn’t already.

“I don’t have an heir, and they want to force me to name one.”

“And anyone of them will use me to motivate your choice.”

Even if she went after the more than two dozen captains in the states and destroyed each and everyone of them: took their money, and made sure the FBI arrested them and the charges stuck, this wouldn’t stop until it was clear who was going to take her grandfather’s throne overseeing the Bratva in the United States. Anyone strong enough to take her grandfather’s office against his will wouldn’t leave lose ends like Felicity. If Leo named an heir, one truly strong enough to follow him, it would only be a matter of time before that man overthrew Leo, which wouldn’t be any better for Felicity. An heir that didn’t challenge Leo would be eaten alive by the captains as soon as Leo was gone, if not before. That would probably end badly for Felicity too.

There was a reason most of the Bratva’s leaders named their sons or nephews as heirs. Aside from raising those men to do the job, sometimes the bonds of love, or at least familial duty, were enough to avoid coup d’etats. And even if it wasn’t enough to keep the son from over throwing the father, it usually kept the other children and the rest of the family safe in the end.

The problem for Leo was that he no longer had sons to take over his office, and he had never had nephews. Felicity trusted most the of the men that made up her grandfather’s inner circle, but none of them had the skills to hold the Bratva together after Leo died. None of them would be able to protect Felicity either. In the twenty-nine years Leo had been pakhan there had been only one time that her grandfather looked weak, and he handled that so decisively that no one had challenged him since.

Until now.

“They don’t want to just use you as motivation Teacup.” Her grandfather spoke gently, which was so unusual that it raised her hackles. He was trying to tell her something, but he didn’t want to say it and he was counting on her smarts to relieve him of the unpleasant task.

Kidnapping her—threatening to hurt her—would probably be enough to get her grandfather to act, though she is not certain that he would name an heir under such circumstances. She trusts that he loves her, and she trusts that he would try to get her back, but she didn’t trust him to put her before the Bratva.

Leo would act, but he would raze her kidnappers to the ground and he might not wait to make sure she was safe. Even if he named an heir and waited until she was out of danger, he would still destroy anyone who thought they could take his empire by threatening her. A smart man would need some way to make sure that Leo wanted him to be heir and take over the operation when Leo died.

“Fucking shitballs.”

Digg looked like he wanted to smile at her exclamation. It had been one of her favorite things to shout when she screwed up the tango’s footwork, but he didn’t smile. He knew things were dire, though she didn’t think he had reached her conclusion yet.

“I won’t allow it Zalutsky.”

Oliver on the other hand looked livid and sounded enraged. Based on his words and reaction she was certain that he had reached the same grim inference as her.

“No one is marrying Felicity against her will.”

“Do you really care what I want, or do you just want to make sure that no other captain becomes pahkan?”

John small smile was enough to tell Felicity that she had guessed Oliver’s rank correctly. Oliver’s only reaction was to move away from her and to start pacing the length of the office.

“You’re Anatoly Knyazev’s Koroleva captain aren’t you?”

It had never occurred to her that Anatoly was being literal when he called his favorite captain Queen.

“He wanted to make you his heir, but you refused…Maybe because you wanted my  
grandfather’s office.” She tries not to sound like she is accusing him of conspiring against Leo, but her voice still has a hard edge.

“I don’t want to be pakhan. Here or in Russia.”

Felicity wanted to believe Oliver when he said it. It would be easier to like him if he wasn’t trying to use her to get to her grandfather, but he was the hero of the evening and that didn’t sit right with her gut. It would have been possible for him to orchestrate the attempted kidnapping to get her to trust him. He recognized those men as Roman Bespalvov’s and Oliver had backup ready to help. If marrying her was the best way to become her grandfather’s heir, it would be easiest for everyone if she wanted to marry Oliver.

Felicity was pretty sure that Oliver Queen had some experience with convincing women to fall in love with him.

“Well that’s good because I am not marrying you.” Felicity stood, and put most of her weight on her right foot. She should be able to make it to the elevator with her bum ankle, though it was going to suck. Storming out would not have the same spunk if she needed to ask for John’s help to reach the elevator.

“Deda, I am going home. I’ll call you tomorrow when I am less angry.” She picked up her purse and reached to turn off her phone, but before she could Oliver grabbed it away from her.

“You’re not going home. You can barely walk. Zalutsky tell her that she is staying with me.” Oliver’s voice and stance dripped with certainty that they would follow his orders.

“Queen, I don’t tell Felicity what to do and you don’t tell me what to do. Teacup are you hurt?”

“It’s a sprain. I’ll ice it when I get home. Tell Oliver to give me my damn phone. John will help me to my car.”

Felicity thought she heard her grandmother chuckling in the background.

“Felicity, Queen is probably right that you shouldn’t go home.”

Felicity cut off her grandfather, “Great, I’ll stay at the Four Seasons. In their penthouse; I am using your credit card, and drinking the entire mini-bar.”

She definitely heard Sophie laughing in the background.

“That’s better, Teacup, but Queen’s estate is safer and I know that he has not been involved in any of the threats against you.”

Before she can speak, Oliver interrupts, “There have been other threats?” Leo answered in Russian. Whatever he said made Oliver angrier and he started to yell back in Russian, and he returned to forcefully pacing the length of the office.

Felicity sat back down to rest her ankle, and looked to John for a translation since she couldn’t figure out what they were talking about.

“Oliver is upset that there has been Bratva business in Starling that he doesn’t know about, especially since you work at QC.”

She nodded. She would still like to know what they were saying, but Leo spent way too much time dealing with captains stepping on each other’s toes. She has heard variations of this conversation several dozen times and as long as they were distracted she now had time to look into what her grandfather told her. She got her tablet out of her purse and started with Bespalov’s phone records.

“Felicity. Felicity!” Oliver was looking at her and holding her phone. She realized she didn’t hear angry Russian anymore. She wasn’t sure when they stopped arguing, but she had been able to finish most of her research. “Your grandfather wants to know what you found.”

It is annoying that Leo knew her so well. The only way that she wouldn’t have interrupted their conversation was if she was working on something, and the only thing she wants to know about right now is whether she can trust Oliver Queen.

“Oliver didn’t have anything to do with the kidnapping attempt.”

She can’t be a hundred percent sure, but if he did orchestrate the whole thing he made sure never to talk about it on a phone or over any electronic communication. She didn’t think that he would have put that much effort into keeping it secret since he clearly had no idea what she was capable of accomplishing with a computer. She also was inclined to trust that John would have objected to the farce and told her about it. Oliver could have also kept it secret from him, but it looked like John was his second-in-command and Oliver trusted him.

“Bespalov is an idiot and his cyber-security is a joke by the way. I mean it’s a miracle the FBI hasn’t arrested him. You should do something about it Deda because right now his accounts lead to you and the rest of the Bratva.”

“Can you take care of it?” Leo sounded tired, and she had dealt with this sort of stuff before. It wouldn’t take her long to set up a more secure system, and her grandfather paid her very well for her work.

“Sure. Normal terms? Will Stan call and tell him?”

“Yes. And will you reconsider staying with Queen? I would sleep better knowing you are safe.”

He didn’t need to tell her that she was still a target. Later tonight she would clear out Bespalov’s accounts as part of her grandfather’s punishment. Personally, she was putting him on the no-fly list since he was suppose to go to Maui with his mistress next week, and she was sending his wife some very scandalous pictures of said mistress and Bespalov. His wife was looking for leverage to divorce him anyway.

“Nice Jewish guilt, Deda.”

Felicity wanted to say no. She wanted to go home to her apartment, eat her ice cream, watch her DVR, and sleep in her bed. She wanted to wake up in the morning to find that this was all a really screwed up dream. But, she knew that it would be childish to do that. If anyone else came after her at her apartment one of her neighbors might get hurt. Oliver wouldn’t be there to rescue her, and she would only have herself to blame for whatever happened. Felicity knew the limits of what she could accomplish with a computer, and the current situation called for a different skill set. Skills that Oliver Queen had and wanted to lend her.

“I’ll stay with Oliver.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone. It totally makes my day to hear that y'all are enjoying this story. The next chapter will be up in a week. Mad Love!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh sorry this is late, and it was suppose to be longer but I adopted kittens today (very exciting!) and didn't have time to finish editing this. I will probably post the rest of this "chapter" as soon as I get it edited, but no promises when that will be because of the kittens!

Things moved quickly once she acquiesced to Oliver’s demand and Leo’s request that she stay at the Queen estate. Oliver confirmed with his lawyer that the police would talk with Felicity tomorrow at his home. He made several other brief phone calls in Russian, and she didn’t ask what they were about. She drank the tea and took the Advil that John gave her. 

She learned that Sara and Roy pursued the van until they lost it because of a badly timed bridge-lift. They were the ones who told her about it when she met them in Oliver’s office where they reported while Oliver was on the phone. He told them to get Felicity’s keys and a list of things that she wanted from her apartment, and to meet them back at the mansion. 

Felicity weakly disagreed with Oliver’s plan, mostly because he continued to think that he could dictate her life. However, she could already tell that the adrenaline that kept her going was quickly fading. Her ankle was starting to really throb, and she just wanted to curl up with her computer and watch GIFs of kittens. As much as she disliked ceding her independence it was the easiest thing to do, and she liked that Sara gave Oliver shade when he didn’t ask Felicity if she was okay with Sara and Roy going to her apartment. 

When they left the office she let John go ahead with her purse, and accepted Oliver’s arm around her waist. It was a lot easier to walk with his help. When they got to the garage there was no evidence of the earlier kidnapping, and John was waiting at the elevator with the Rolls Royce. Oliver gently helped her in to the backseat of the car before going to the other side of the car and taking the seat next to her. 

While Oliver was getting settled she caught John checking on her via the rearview mirror and she gave him a small smile to let him know that she was okay. Oliver didn’t say anything once he made sure she had her seatbelt on and told John to take them home.

If Felicity hadn’t started to feel absolutely exhausted, she would have thought some about how weird it was to be riding in Oliver Queen’s Rolls Royce with John Diggle as her driver going “home.” Such introspection was beyond her at the moment and she just stared at the lights of the city, blurred by the car’s speed and her tired eyes. By the time they reached the edge of the city she stopped trying to keep her eyes open and let the sound of the engine and the smooth road lull her to sleep. 

Felicity woke up as the car slowed to a stop at the mansion’s main entrance. It was too grand to call it a front door, with its large stone overhang and perfectly proportioned arches. The entire façade of the building, as well as the perfectly manicured topiaries in the center of the circular driveway were dramatically light against the night sky. She assumed that was supposed to be welcoming, but mostly it felt ominous and imposing. 

Felicity had seen the estate up close before, but not at night and not as the guest of its crown prince. 

The Queens’ opened the main rooms and the gardens to the public once a year. Her mother’s only trip to Starling had intentionally coincided with the yearly tour. Even Felicity, who didn’t really care much about interiors, and even less about English gardens, had been impressed with the home. Donna still talked about it. As a result, Felicity knew more than she wanted to about the Edwardian castle that Oliver’s great-grandfather built after he cornered the steel market and built one of the country’s great fortunes.

Technically it was a castle since it was fortified against attack. Henry Queen hadn’t been paranoid or worried about plots against him. He told his architect to design the main building to evoke the Scottish estate that his family had been tenant farmers on for generations. When he learned that meant his home was going to be a castle, Henry said he didn’t care as long as it was grander than Buckingham Palace and the White House combined. 

Henry didn’t spare any expense on his castle. The stone was imported from a specific quarry in France, Venice’s best glass-makers designed the stained glass windows in the library, and the tiles in the bathrooms were hand-painted in the Spain. The result was a building bigger and more opulent than the castle that inspired it, and Henry Queen included every modern marvel the original lacked like central heat, indoor plumbing, and electricity. 

Felicity had been impressed when she learned that it was the first private residence outside of New York City to have electricity, and at the time it was the largest building ever wired for electricity. To ensure that he could turn on all those lights, Henry Queen built Starling’s electrical grid and first power plant. That grid and power plant formed the basis of Queen’s second fortune in energy. 

By the time Henry was one of the richest men in the world, the noble family that had benefited from his family’s work for generations was impoverished. In an act of chutzpah, Henry bought the massive chandelier that had hung in the entry room of the noble family’s castle since the French Revolution. He had it wired for electricity and hung it in the grand atrium so it was the first thing people saw when entering his home, lit like a thousand stars. According to local legend, when Henry was dying, he ordered his sick bed moved into the atrium so that he could see the chandelier sparkling above him. 

Felicity always thought she would have liked Henry Queen.

Felicity realized she was staring at the chandelier that she could see glittering through the Mansion’s open door. She hadn’t noticed that Oliver had opened her car door or that a servant was holding the Mansion’s door open. Oliver seemed in no hurry for her to collect herself, and she imagined that he had grown use to people reacting like this to his home. Felicity felt bad that the maid had to stand at attention because of her pointless rambling thoughts. 

She took the hand that Oliver offered. As soon she was out of the car he shifted her weight so that she was leaning on him. Felicity told herself that she wasn’t a simpering blonde hanging onto Oliver Queen’s arm. She was a smart, independent woman who happened to be clutching Oliver Queen’s arm only because she was injured. She almost convinced herself that it was true. 

When they reached the door, Oliver nodded at the woman who was waiting for them. She looked to be in her late fifties though there wasn’t any gray in her dark hair, which she pulled back in practical but severe bun, and Felicity could tell that the apron of her maid’s uniform was for utility not fashion. While she was slightly shorter than Felicity, she held her ground with an imposing confidence that made Felicity think she was much taller. 

“Raisa. This is Ms. Felicity Smoak. As I told you, she will be staying with us for a few days. Felicity, this is Raisa. She keeps the house running and makes sure I behave.” Raisa seemed to be utterly unimpressed with Oliver’s praise or the charming smile he gave her. “If you need anything when I am not here, Raisa will help.”

Felicity smiled at Raisa, who didn’t hide that she was intently studying her. Felicity wasn’t sure that she passed the test. All Raisa did was make a small humming noise and waved them into the house. 

“Mr. Oliver didn’t tell me you were hurt.” Raisa managed to sound disapproving and polite at the same time. Felicity thought the disapproval was for Oliver, but she wasn’t sure. “I will call the doctor.”

“You don’t need to do that. It’s a just a sprain. It will be fine with some ice.” 

Felicity pretty sure that she was going to lose this argument based on Raisa’s tone when she responded, but Oliver spoke up and told Raisa that it had been a long night and that they would call the doctor in the morning if the swelling hadn’t gone down. Raisa gave him a look that was almost as good as Baba’s I-don’t-believe-you-face, but she agreed to his plan.

“I prepared the damasak room like Mr. Oliver asked. Its in the family wing andhas the best views of the rose garden. The Queen family doesn’t use it for guests.” Something about how Raisa described it made Felicity feel like this was an honor that she might not deserve. Felicity nodded as Raisa spoke, and hoped that she looked like she regularly stayed in rooms with names like Damask. 

“Thank you Raisa. I’ll take Felicity up to her room. Can you please bring up some ice for her ankle and some tea?” 

Raisa nodded and left to collect the requested items.

Oliver led Felicity up one of the grand staircases in the atrium. It was easy not to look to the top of them because they were so tall, and Felicity didn’t want to think about all the stairs she would need to climb. She decided to count them only after she was on the next step. 

She clutched the banister with her left and held Oliver’s hand with her other. He wrapped his other arm around her waist. While he didn’t carry her, each time she pushed up on to the next step she could feel the extra lift he gave her. Even with his help it was slow going. 

She was contemplating the eleventh step when Oliver spoke,

“I can carry you up the stairs if you want.”

“No thank you. I can do it.” 

Only with Oliver’s help. But she knew her immediate response was correct—she could make it up the stairs if she had too. She climbed the eleventh step clutching Oliver’s hand and started on the twelfth when she looked up and saw how far she had to go. She looked back at her feet, and told herself it was just one step at a time. Like running a marathon. 

Except she wasn’t running a marathon and there was no need for her to act like walking up the stairs injured was necessary. 

“I’m sorry. I was being stubborn can you please carry me.” 

She met Oliver’s eyes as she spoke and she appreciated that she didn’t see any proof that he was judging her for being pig-headed. 

Her Deda was always telling her that smart leaders accepted help for trivial problems so that they could tackle real business. Of course he meant that she shouldn’t stay awake all night trying to track down what had happened to an incomplete shipment of smuggled electronics when he could task one of his enforcers with the chore, but the lesson seemed applicable to her current situation. 

Oliver lifted her easily and made sure not to jostle her hurt ankle as he settled her into his arms. She tried to ignore the way that his muscles rippled under his jacket and how masculine he felt beneath his dress shirt. Earlier in the night, when he carried her out of the garage, she was too preoccupied to notice the intimacy of being cradled in his arms. Now, she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, hear each calm breath he took, and smell the spicy appealing scent of him that she liked even more than the smell of fresh baked bread and mulled wine. 

As comforting and safe as Oliver’s arms were, Felicity couldn’t make herself relax into them. She tried to ease her tense muscles because she knew that Oliver could feel how rigidly she was holding herself. She took deep breaths like her yoga teacher swore would relieve stress. If it was helping she didn’t notice.

Oliver didn’t say anything about her initial refusal to his offer or the fact that she then asked him to carry her. When they made it up the last of the stairs, he asked if she wanted him to her to carry her the rest of the way. She almost told him to put her down, and then reconsidered. When she asked how far it was to her room all Oliver said was that it was a ways. She almost asked him to estimate the distance in football field lengths. She stopped herself because it was ridiculous, and asked him to carry her the rest of the way. 

As he carried her through the long hallway Oliver pointed out the spot where he had decided the hand painted wallpaper’s pattern was boring and he add green stars and purple hearts to it when he was four. When they passed a window he told her about how his little sister broke it practicing with his lacrosse stick because she was still too young to play. When the window was discovered, Oliver said he broke it because he knew that Thea would be heartbroken to miss her bestfriend’s birthday party as punishment. Thea tried to say that she broke the window, but no one believed her because Oliver was so convincing. 

After the story about Thea he told her other anecdotes about their childhood. Felicity didn’t say anything to his stories, but by the time they reached the room assigned to her she had completely relaxed. Oliver set her down gently and pointed to the door across the hallway.

“That’s my room. Knock if you need anything. Thea’s room is the last door on the right at the end of the hallway. You might hear her when she gets home. She can be loud.” Oliver reached across her to open the door they were standing in front of. “This is the Damask room. It was my Baba’s when she visited.” 

As soon as Felicity entered she knew it was named for the rich gold damask pattern wallpaper that started at the ornate crown moldings and ran down to the chevron patterned wood floors. The room was twice the size of her bedroom, but she guessed that it might be one of the smaller family bedrooms. It easily held the large four-poster bed that was dressed with elegant cream and light gold bed linens that was to the left of the door. Oliver helped her over to the small sitting area that was to the right of the door. The couch and chair’s upholstery matched the rooms colors, and Felicity couldn’t stop herself from sighing as she sank into the couches comforting down cushions. 

She noticed a door to the right of where she was sitting, and Oliver told her it led to her dressing room and bathroom. He also showed her the phone and made sure she knew how to reach Raisa in the kitchen and the Manor’s security office. There was a gentle knock on the door as he was finishing. Oliver told them enter and Raisa came in carrying a tea tray. She set the tray on the coffee table in front of Felicity. Along with the tea service, there was an ice bucket, ace bandages and tiger balm. 

“I brought you chamomile tea to help you sleep. None of that black tea that will keep you awake.” The look that Raisa leveled at Felicity made her think that Raisa knew she planned on staying up late working. “If you are like Mr. Oliver, you work too much.”

Oliver actually rolled his eyes at Raisa behind her back. Felicity had to stifle a laugh since they made her think of how she always acted with her Baba. 

Raisa poured both Felicity and Oliver tea. When Raisa asked, Felicity requested lemon and honey in her tea. Raisa added two large dollops of honey to Oliver’s without asking what he wanted. Felicity would have been happy to serve herself, but she thought this might be a bit of a ritual for Raisa and Oliver. 

Oliver took his tea and ignored Raisa trying shoo him away from the ice and bandages. “I can take care of Felicity’s ankle." 

Raisa started to disagree with him and then changed her mind. “You have enough experience with bruises and sprains.” Her tone was loving, but with enough exasperation that Felicity knew Raisa worried about Oliver. 

Oliver didn’t roll his eyes, but his smile was enough to make it clear that he found Raisa’s attention endearing and slightly annoying. This time Felicity did laugh because she was being to suspect that Oliver Queen attracted a level of trouble that she would have never believed before tonight. 

Raisa made sure that they had everything they needed and that Felicity knew how to reach her over the comm system before she left. 

“Raisa can be a little....” Oliver struggled to think of how to put it. “She is very protective of Thea and me.” Oliver moved the tea set to the side, and sat on the coffee table across from Felicity. His long legs barely fit. She shifted her knees, but his legs still ended up grazing hers and their feet tangled together. 

“She loves you.”

Oliver paused. Felicity wondered if most people didn’t notice it because Raisa wore a servant’s uniform. Maybe they didn’t want to say it in case Oliver didn’t love Raisa as anything more than a loyal family retainer. It was clear to Felicity that Raisa was as important to him as he was to Raisa. None of the stories Oliver told her as he carried her to the room ever mentioned his parents. He told Felicity about making gingerbread cookies with Raisa for Christmas and Raisa checking his math homework after dinner. According to Oliver, everyday he was at sleep away camp when he was twelve he wrote Raisa a letter. Felicity wasn’t sure what Oliver’s relationship with his parents was like, but she was certain that his relationship with Raisa was strong and supportive. 

Oliver gently picked up her left ankle and removed the purple t-bar heel she was still wearing. He gently rubbed the tiger’s balm into the swollen joint and kneaded the arch of her foot. “Most people aren’t willing to say the truth.” 

“Felicity Megan Smoak: truth bomb dropper.” She felt her eyes closing in relaxation and a surprising sense of safety. Oliver chuckled, but didn’t say anything as his thumbs rubbed circles along her heel. He finished her left foot and started the same massage on her right one. 

“That’s feels amazing. You can keep doing that forever.” His fingers dug into the ball of her foot and teased out all the stress she was holding. “Right there. You can move in with me and pay your rent with your hands.” 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized exactly how it must have sounded to him. She could feel blood rushing to her cheeks and the flush that was blooming across her face, down her neck and all the way to her chest. 

Stupid Zalutsky complexion. 

Oliver’s fingers stilled for a moment when she spoke, but he picked up where he left off before she could apologize for her bumbling train of thought and the incredibly awkward exchanges it caused. Her eyes were still screwed shut, and she really didn’t want to open them and see Oliver staring at her, but she wanted to know what he was thinking. 

“I’m sorry. I put my foot in mouth all the time. Its like oral footsy...I am just going to stop talking again. You can leave before I embarrass myself to death.” She finally opened her eyes to look at Oliver who had stopped massaging her foot but was still holding it, as though it was made of glass.

Oliver wasn’t blushing. He was staring at her in away that Felicity didn’t know how to interpret. It wasn’t the look of horror and social panic that most people gave her when she got really awkward. Her last boyfriend broke up with her because he couldn’t handle feeling embarrassed for her when she rambled. His exact words. He was kind of a tool, and didn’t know anything about tea so Baba thought he was an idiot. Oliver Queen didn’t seem like the type of man to suffer from embarrassment often or worry about social anxiety. 

“You can put your feet wherever you want.” He didn’t comment on the rest of what she said. She watched as he expertly wrapped her ankle with the ace bandage. When he was done he checked his work and nodded to himself more than too her. 

“Try and keep it elevated, and ice it for twenty minutes tonight and again in the morning. I have to go check on some things, but if you need anything call Raisa.” 

Felicity nodded as Oliver gently extracted himself from between her legs and left her room. She had no idea where she stood with him and it was disconcerting enough that Felicity decided to focus on her other problems. 

Her purse with her tablet was on the table next to her, and she realized that it must have been delivered before they reached the room. While she needed the laptop that Sara and Roy were picking up to do most of the heavy lifting, she could get started with just the tablet and her phone. Felicity settled in with her tea for a long night of work bankrupting Roman Bespalov and investigating the other Bratva captains.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am putting this up a few hours early because the last chapter was so thin.

Felicity woke to a ringing phone, which was weird because her cell’s ring-tone was a Tegan and Sara song. On the second ring she remembered that she wasn’t at home, which explained the epically comfortable bed. By the third ring she had found her glasses and was able to pick up the phone by the fifth ring. 

“Uh—

“Good morning Sunshine.” Felicity recognized Sara’s voice and remembered that last night when Sara delivered Felicity’s bags, Sara told her that the police would be at the manor to interview her at nine. Sara also told her that Oliver had assigned Sara to keep and eye on Felicity until things settled down. 

“Its seven-thirty and I thought that you would like time to put on your game face and eat some of Raisa’s blueberry pancakes before you do battle with the cops. I will be at your room in forty-five minutes.”

Felicity was barely able to say okay before Sara hung up the phone. 

Sara was right. Felicity did want to put on her game face. Her ankle felt a thousand times better when Felicity tested it walking to the bathroom. The powers of ice, painkillers and a few hours of sleep were all in her favor. 

It didn’t take long to shower, but Felicity kept getting distracted by the room’s size. She was use to small, almost closet, like bathrooms. This one was big enough to easily fit a clawfoot tub that was the size of a rowboat, and a separate walk in shower as big as her cubicle as QC. She wasted almost ten minutes experimenting the with shower’s array of heads and spigots. She stopped only when she told herself that she could test out the hot water supply later. 

After her shower it didn’t take long to pull her hair back in her normal perky and functional ponytail. Her makeup was also easy to put on, since the only part of it she ever varied during the day was her lipstick. It took her slightly longer to choose her outfit, but she settled on the blue floral day dress she had asked Sara to pack for exactly this occasion. The pattern was appropriately demure, and the cut conservative enough that she looked nice, but shy and quiet. And that was good. She didn’t want the police to think that she was interesting. She added rather boring gold hoop earrings and decided to forgo a necklace. Unlike most of her outfits she wanted this one to make her look less confident. The navy blue flats that she slipped on were mostly a concession to her ankle, but they also made her seem smaller and less willing to take the world on. She added a comfortable cardigan and her glasses as the last touches. 

When Sara knocked on her door, Felicity was ready to greet the world as a shy, sometimes awkward, cyber-security expert for QC. 

“Nice disguise. I want to borrow that dress next time my grandma is in town. Is your ankle feeling better?” 

Unlike Felicity’s outfit, everything about Sara’s screamed BAMF. Her motorcycle boots were scuffed, her jeans were worn and ripped from wear, her green t-shirt was plain, but hugged her ripped abs, and her black leather jacket was too cool for Felicity to ever pull off wearing. The whole thing made Sara seem much more imposing than Felicity, even though the blondes were about the same size. 

John once tried to teach Felicity how to spot concealed weapons in trade for her teaching him how to hide his Internet presence, but she hadn’t been a very good student. She thought that Sara has a switchblade up one of the sleeves of her jacket and an ankle holster with a small caliber pistol. Even if Sara was unarmed, Felicity was sure that the other woman was incredibly dangerous. Sara moved with an unconscious confidence and a coiled strength that Felicity had come to associate with Leo’s most deadly enforcers. 

“Yes, its much better. My Baba would hate this dress.”

“Well my grandmother isn’t married to the pakhan. She is more a Laura than a Hilary. Anyway, this place is bigger than some towns I have lived in. Let me show you how to get to the kitchen. Oliver will be back in time for your meeting with the police.”

Felicity grabbed her tablet and phone and followed Sara. The walk to the kitchen seemed much shorter than the path Oliver and she took last night. As they walked, Sara and Felicity ended up trading stories about the funny things their grandmothers had given them as gifts. Sara won when she told Felicity that her grandmother gave her an ‘N Sync Calendar for Christmas the year before. Sara and her sister still weren’t sure if it was a gag gift or not. 

Sara led Felicity into a kitchen that was homier than Felicity had been expecting. It was smaller too, though still about the size of her entire apartment. This space was clearly built for servants and not for the Queen family or the people they wanted to impress. 

Felicity liked the blue and white tiles on the floor and backsplash, the bright yellow walls and worn butcher-block counters. The large kitchen island’s open shelves were filled with stacked pots and pans, so they were easy to reach, and while they were neatly contained, the stacks weren’t really picture perfect. The appliances were immaculate, but they showed age and wear. She noticed a misshapen clay spoon-rest on the top of the stovetop that was perfectly placed to be used. Everything was functional, but it wasn’t all-beautiful; it was a well used room and its design was to serve its purpose. 

The kitchen also felt like it was a place people were suppose to gather. There were several simple wood stools on the far side of the kitchen island, and on the side opposite from the cooking stations was a old farm table twice as long as Felicity was tall with a random collection of Windsor chairs that didn’t match.

Overall it was less polished than the kitchens Felicity saw on TV, which always seemed like rooms designed to be beautiful and unused. This kitchen was the hub of the house and of the family that lived in it. 

“This is Raisa’s domain. Invade it at your own risk.” Sara’s tone was serious for all that her words sounded like a joke. 

As though Sara’s words conjured her, Raisa came out of a narrow doorway that Felicity had missed.

“Miss Sara is not allowed in the kitchen unsupervised. I am sure you will behave better than she does.” 

“Burn a batch of cookies ones or five times, and you get banned by the kitchen dictator.”

Raisa just ignored Sara. “Would you like coffee Ms. Smoak?”

“Yes! Please.” Raisa actually smiled at Felicity’s enthusiasm. “Please call me Felicity.”

“Of course, miss. Would like breakfast as well?” Raisa poured her a steaming mug of coffee from a teapot sitting on the counter. She pointed Felicity to one of the stools at the island, and put the mug there with cream and sugar. Felicity didn’t add anything to her coffee, but Sara added a long pour of cream to the mug that Raisa handed her without prompting. 

Felicity breathed in the intoxicating smell of the coffee. “Don’t worry about me. I can make…Breakfast sounds great.” 

Raisa’s smile faded quickly as Felicity offered to make it herself. The smile came back as soon as Felicity said breakfast sounded great. Sara laughed into her mug at the whole thing. She clearly knew what Raisa’s reaction was going to be to Felicity’s answer. 

As soon as Felicity said yes fruit salad magically appeared in front of her. She sipped her coffee and watched Raisa fry bacon and make blueberry pancakes with batter from the refrigerator faster than Felicity could hack the FBI. 

By the time Raisa put a plate of food in front of Felicity, her mouth was watering. “Thanks. They smell awesome and the garnish is really pretty, though I am sure they would have tasted just as good without it, but now its like I’m at my favorite diner with my mom getting breakfast at the end of one of her night shifts at the casino. Its so pretty I feel like I should instagram it.”

Raisa seemed to take everything in stride, but she paused and looked at Felicity for a long moment when Felicity mentioned her mom working nights at a casino. Felicity couldn’t stop her hackles from rising a bit, there was nothing wrong with her mother being a waitress and she wasn’t ashamed of that part of Donna. Raisa doesn’t look away from Felicity’s stare, but the slight nod that she gave Felicity was respectful and her eyes softened just enough that Felicity thought Raisa wasn’t judging her mother—she was surprised. 

Felicity knew a draw when she saw one. She didn’t say anything about it and started to eat her pancakes, which were as delicious as they smelled. She ate a quarter of her plate in food bliss before she realized that Sara wasn’t eating too. 

“Don’t worry, I had my breakfast already. I had some things I needed to do this morning.” Having already eaten doesn’t stop Sara from sneaking a piece of Felicity’s bacon. 

Felicity wanted to ask exactly what Sara did for Oliver, and more importantly how Sara ended up mixed up with the Bratva. Felicity spent some time last night putting together a chart of Oliver’s personal Bratva organization. Her first surprise was realizing that Sara was definitely the enforcer he used the most. There were women in the Bratva. Anna Levin started an incredibly lucrative call-girl business in Seattle, and branched out into corporate espionage. Levin had more money and people than almost any captain in the states, but she would never actually hold that title. Her brother was the captain because he was smart enough to listen to his sister so she didn’t replace him with someone more cooperative. 

The Bratva was many things, but it wasn’t particularly enlightened about the role of women. Felicity figured its general attitude was pretty perfectly encapsulated by her current predicament. It also explained why Felicity was so surprised by Sara’s role.

The second thing that had surprised Felicity was that Oliver only had a handful of people working for him because he really didn’t conduct any business that was part of the Bratva. Honestly, Felicity was surprised that Oliver still had his rank. She figured some ambitious third son or new enforcer would have tried to oust Oliver as a quick way to climb the ladder. His lack of Bratva income was probably the only reason no one had tried it. That and his resources as the Queen heir. 

Felicity was mopping up the last traces of melted butter and real maple syrup when Oliver entered the kitchen. She almost laughed when she saw his outfit. The light silvery gray suit with narrow slacks and thin lapels, and snowy white oxford shirt was very Brooks Brothers. The lack of tie was supposed to make the whole thing look casual. Really it just made him look like an investment banker trying to look casual, which was fine since he didn’t look like a Bratva captain at all. 

Oliver and she were perfectly boring and ready to impress the police with their normalcy. 

Oliver didn’t notice her right away and it gave her a moment to study him. He wasn’t exactly relaxed, something about his posture made Felicity think he was ready for an attack, but he seemed the more content than he did last night. Less like a predator who couldn’t hunt and more like an alert guard dog who knew his home was safe and sound. 

“Raisa…Good morning, Felicity.” He seemed a thousand times happier as soon as he saw her sitting in his kitchen with her nose buried in a coffee mug. 

“Good morning, Oliver.” She wasn’t sure why she smiled back at him, but it felt perfectly natural to grin. 

“Jesus.” Sara sounded disgusted, like she had just discovered a long buried piece of Tupperware in the back of the fridge filled with something that was once edible and now was furry and smelly. “Seriously?”

Felicity wasn’t sure what Sara meant, but Oliver seemed to know since he shot Sara a look that implored her to shut up. 

“Morning, Sara.”

“You are so out of your league Ollie.”

“Your opinion is duly noted.” Oliver headed to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Sara, you’re going to need to make yourself scarce.”

“He’s investigating the kidnapping.”

“Yes. I just got the names of the SCPD detectives from the front gate. He should be here in a few minutes.”

“Well that’s my cue to disappear. Felicity, have fun running circles around the cops. Ollie, remember he’s still looking for an excuse to shoot you.”

Felicity wasn’t sure exactly who they were talking about, or why he would want to shoot Oliver, but both seemed relatively unconcerned about Sara’s need to disappear. 

Sara topped off her mug and sauntered off through a different door than Oliver entered from. As she left she passed Raisa who was just coming back into the kitchen. 

“Mr. Oliver, did you eat a real breakfast, not just coffee?”

“I had a protein shake.”

“You don’t drink breakfast. Miss Felicity had pancakes, bacon, and fruit salad.” 

Felicity kept her face impassive. She was inclined to agree with Raisa that breakfast was a meal one should eat, but she didn’t think that Oliver would appreciate her telling him that right now. 

“I’ll eat something when we are done talking to the police. Can you please bring tea and coffee into the private sitting room?”

“Of course, but I don’t know why you are polite to the militsiya.”

‘You lived in the USSR?” Felicity couldn’t stop herself from interrupting to ask the question. 

“A long time ago.” Raisa’s answer was clipped and curt. Felicity knows that she isn’t suppose to ask anything else, but she thinks Raisa’s past might explain Oliver’s Russian language skills. 

“Mr. Queen, Detective Lance and his partner are here to speak with you and Ms. Smoak. They are in the private sitting room. Mr. Durov is with them.”

Felicity didn’t notice the young maid until she spoke up. The maid’s English was excellent, but she had a clear Russian accent and Felicity made a mental note to look into all of the Queen family servants. 

“Thank you, Lesya. Felicity, are you ready? I meant to leave us time to go over the story.”

“I’ll be fine.” She took a final sip of coffee, and gave herself a short pep talk, she could do this. 

“Lets do it!” She sort of jumped off her stool, but made sure to land on her right ankle.

She must have sounded falsely enthusiastic because Oliver, Raisa , and Lesya all smiled at her. 

“I’m serious, lets do this!”

“They’re not going to know what hit them Tempest.” Oliver guided her out the same doorway that Lesya had entered through. “Stick to talking about the technical stuff. I will explain about Digg and me. Simple is better, and its okay to slow the conversation down.”

“I’ve done this before.”

“Really?” Oliver didn’t hide his surprise. 

Felicity knew she looked like a kindergarten teacher, but it would go better if Oliver remembered that she was wilier than her boring outfit suggested. 

“I was fifteen the first time I lied to the cops.”

“Me too.”

“What did you do?”

“Tommy, my best friend, and I threw a party on my family’s yacht. Several dozen different people called in noise complaints. We told the cops that party was for local cancer patients.”

“And they believed that?”

“Absolutely not, especially not when they saw a Victoria Secret Angel throwing up over the side.”

Felicity could imagine Oliver as an entitled teenage punk who thought the police would buy that stupid story.

“What did you do?” He sounded genuinely curious about what would lead her to lie to the police. 

“I ran a bookmaking business at my prep school. One of my asshat classmates didn’t pay his debts so I changed his grades and he tipped the cops off as payback.”

“What happened?”

“I word vomited at them about how I was horrible at math and I was sure the Yankees were an excellent football team.”

“And they believed you?”

It hadn’t really mattered what she said. As soon as the officers saw her with her mouse brown hair, too big glasses and ill fitting school uniform they decided that she couldn’t possible be a bookie, or clever enough to hack the school’s electronic gradebooks. 

“They thought I was an idiot, which didn’t jive with the whole supposed mastermind thing.”

She had been an idiot, but not the way that they thought. 

Evan still made her life hell, and he figured out exactly how to get back at her by making his friends place their bets with other people. She offered some insane spreads, and her whales still refused to make book with her. Even with her scholarship, she had needed the money to afford the stupid school. Her mother could barely make the rent, and it never occurred to Felicity to think about asking her grandparents for help. She dyed her hair black the same day she shut down her bookmaking business. What sucked the most was that he had the money. He just didn’t think that there was anything she could do to him. 

Felicity hopes the next time she dyes her hair it won’t be because her life has gone FUBAR.

“People see what they want to see. It’s easier to see you as sweet and dumb than it is to see you as someone smarter than them.”

“You count on that don’t you?”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders, pressed his lips together, and kept walking. People might misjudge her, but their assumptions about her had always been false. Oliver built his sordid reputation by being shallow, vapid, and spoiled. Something changed him while he was gone, but his disguise was really an old coat he had outgrown, not a costume he had created to hide behind. 

When they entered the sitting room, Felicity had no problem figuring out which of the three men waiting in the sitting room were the detectives and who was Oliver’s Bratva lawyer. 

Dmitri Durov was older than Felicity was expecting. His skin was creased with lines from laughing and frowning, and his thinning hair was more salt than pepper. He had a bit extra around the middle, and Felicity was willing to guess that he spent more time behind a desk than he did in the gym.

Somehow he managed to lounge in his navy three-piece suit, with its dated, but totally elegant, double-breasted jacket. He sat in the only wingback chair that gave him a view of the door and the rest of the room, and it also forced the detective chatting with him to sit on one of the couches. The effect was to subtly imply that Durov was in charge, and the officers subservient. 

The detective sitting on the couch was a very fit African American man that Felicity thought was in his mid-forties. He stood up as soon she entered and walked over to shake her hand. 

His handshake was brief and firm. 

“Detective Hilton, ma’am. Its nice to see you again Mr. Queen.” 

Felicity appreciated that when he shook hands with Oliver it was just as brief and Hilton didn’t try to make it a contest to see who was stronger. Hilton turned to the last man in the room,

“My partner, Detective Lance.” 

Unlike the other two men, Detective Lance had not take a seat while they were waiting for Oliver and Felicity to arrive. He was the tallest person in the room, with several inches on Oliver. He was about the same age as Durov, but he lean figure proved that he hadn’t stopped visiting the gym. When they entered Lance was standing on the far side of the room, holding a framed photo that Felicity thought normally sat on the mantle of the small fireplace that served as the focal point of the room’s architecture. 

“Ms. Smoak.” 

Lance put down the picture and crossed the room quickly because of his long legs. She shook his hand when he offered it. 

“Queen.”

Felicity had never thought that words had the power to kill before, and she still didn’t think that they did, but if for some reason it were possible for a person to kill with a word, they would sound like Detective Lance when he said Oliver’s name. Well, Felicity at least knew that Oliver and Sara had been talking about Detective Lance before. 

Lance didn’t offer his hand, and Oliver didn’t act like he expected that they would greet each other cordially. His only response was a clipped nod that was just shy of being rude. Oliver guided Felicity to the couch opposite Hilton’s and joined her as soon as she sat. 

Lance went back to looking at the photos on the mantle. Felicity could now see that the one that he had been holding as a picture of Oliver as child dressed like Robin Hood. On one side of him was a dark-haired boy about his same age at the time, about eight, dressed up as a magician, and on his other side a blonde girl, the same age as them, dressed like a ninja. They were all smiling probably from a sugar rush, but it made for a cute photo. 

“Thank you detectives for agreeing to meet here. It has been a stressful twenty-four hours for Felicity.” 

She tried to look stressed and nervous, which wasn’t that hard since she had only managed two hours of sleep the night before. It had taken her longer than she expected to find all of Bespalov’s accounts, and then she had stayed up investigating Oliver’s Bratva connections.

Oliver continued, “I assume you met Mr. Durov?” 

Both detectives nodded. Before Oliver could say anything else, Leysa entered with coffee and tea. She carefully placed it on the coffee table between the couches. 

“Thank you Leysa. Would anyone like coffee or tea?”

Felicity requested tea, which Oliver expertly poured and added honey and a slice of lemon with out her asking. The Queens seemed to prefer an English tea service, which was fine with Felicity, but it made her miss the Russian samovor her grandparents used. Making tea the Russian way was as comforting as the tea itself. 

Hilton took a cup of coffee, and Oliver poured one for himself. As soon as Oliver raised the cup to his lips, Lance spoke.

“See, what I can’t figure is why you need your attorney here.” 

Oliver’s cup stopped right before his lips. He could put it down without taking a sip, but that would show Lance that he was in control of the interview. Oliver could take a sip and answer after drinking, but then it would look like he needed extra time to think. Deda would have been impressed by Lance’s timing. 

“I asked for Mr. Durov to be here.” Felicity let some doubt and concern creep into her voice. “Did he tell you about the cyber-attacks at QC? I know some of the information that the attackers were looking for is confidential and I don’t want to accidently tell any of QC’s secrets. Not that you can’t be trusted. You’re the police and if you can’t trust the police who can you trust?” 

She rushed through the last sentence because she felt stupid to even pretend that she might trust the police, and she worried that it called attention to her own disbelief in what she was saying. The officers didn’t seem to think that her rapid speech was odd, and the kind smile that Hilton gave her must have been to try and relieve her supposed nerves. 

“As Ms. Smoak said, QC wants to assist your investigation in anyway that it can, but certain information including the specific information targeted in the attacks is confidential. I’m here to speak up for QC.”

“Let me remind you, we can and will get a search warrant if necessary. You can save us all time and headaches by cooperating.”

Mr. Durov didn’t say anything to Detective Lance. He just smiled, and it wasn’t kind. It was toothy, flashy and absolutely confident that if he went mano a mano with the detective in a court of law, Durov would win. 

“Lets cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, we are here to interview Ms. Smoak.” 

Hilton was clearly trying to avoid any actual fights breaking out between his partner and the lawyer. 

“Ms. Smoak can you tell us what happened last night?”

“Its all very confusing. I was leaving work. I think it was about 9? I was talking to my baba—my grandma—about tea, and then Oliver was in the elevator and we got off in the garage, and I was walking to my car and there was a van and it stopped and a man tried to grab me and, you know they tell you that your life flashes before your eyes when you think you are going to die, but that didn’t happen all I could think about was that I was never going to get to wear the blue suede heels I just ordered from Zappos and that really sucked.”

Hilton interrupted when she paused to take a breath, “Okay. How about we back up a little and you tell us what you do for QC.”

For the next fifteen minutes Hilton and Lance took turns asking her questions. Mr. Durov interrupted once or twice, but none of the questions were hard to answer. Mostly she built up the previous cyber-attacks and made it clear that whoever was leading the hack knew that she was the one fighting it. It was a little harder to answer questions about what happened in the garage, but she told them quite honestly that it was confusing and jumbled up. 

When the asked her a question about who fired first, Oliver interrupted and answered on her behalf. 

“Mr. Diggle my bodyguard fired the first shot. I believe you interviewed him last night.”

“Yes, we did. According to him he provided cover fire so Ms. Smoak could crawl over to your hiding place and that you helped her to the elevator while he pursued the van out of the garage.”

“That’s what happened. Thank god, Digg was there. He told me what to do. I froze up because it made me think about that kidnapping attempt when I was fourteen…”

Oliver didn’t finish what he was saying, but Lance clearly knew about the incident Oliver was referencing. 

“Queen, someday you’re going to get a girl shot because she has the bad luck to care about you.” 

Felicity could feel Oliver go rigid at Lance’s comment, but Oliver didn’t say anything or let any hurt show on his face. 

Lance ignored Oliver’s lack of response, “We received calls about two motorcycles following the van. Inconveniently, the city’s traffic cameras recording system failed last night and there is no way for us to confirm those reports.”

Mr. Durov had no problem keeping a straight face, but Oliver had to fight not to look at her. He clearly knew who had caused that little hiccup. 

Thankfully Lance was looking through his notes and not at Oliver, “Ms. Smoak, I have one last question, why are you staying here? Your apartment has top of the line security and a doorman, and I know QC provides excellent benefits but staying at the CEO’s house isn’t one of them.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped farther and farther open as Lance spoke. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, and for once she was sad that words refused to come out of her mouth. She thought they were prepared for this interview, and she had missed the most obvious question: why was she staying with Oliver?

“Felicity and I are dating.”

Felicity’s jaw snapped shut, all the blood that had rushed to her face drained just as quickly, and her neck swiveled to look at Oliver. Her timing was excellent, or horrible—because he had turned to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, but because she moved Oliver ended up lightly brushing his lips against hers.

As kisses went it was excruciatingly simple. The lightest touch of lips, the faintest sense of warm, and the tiniest tickle of his breath was all she really registered, but it was enough to make her fingers itch to comb through the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck and her heart to speed up. 

Felicity was embarrassed for herself when she let out a small, almost silent sigh. Oliver heard it though, and she felt his smile more than she saw it. 

She quickly turned to Lance, who looked utterly repulsed by the whole thing. 

“Uh…we’re dating?”

She wasn’t sure that she was exactly selling the whole thing since she was still processing the situation. Oliver Queen thought it was a good idea to tell the police that they were dating, and then tried to prove his point by kissing her. As plans went she thought this was going to backfire badly on them.

“Its complicated…because I work for him. I totally don’t want to be the woman who slept her way to the top. Not that I am. Sleeping I mean.... I graduated top of my class from MIT with a Masters in Cyber Security and Computer Science and all people will say if our relationship is public is that I got my job because I’m screwing the guy whose name is on the building.”

As she was talking, she was thinking the whole thing through and realizing that every word she spoke was true. Oliver’s quick answer was the simplest way to explain why she was staying with him, but it was an answer that was going to affect her reputation far more than his.

Oliver must have sensed her discomfort, because he calmly threaded his fingers through hers as though they held hands everyday. As much as it was for show, she appreciated the warm anchor that he offered. 

“Its not fair, but the women I date are subjected to a level of scrutiny that can be unforgiving and harsh, as I am sure you know Detective Lance. Felicity has worked very hard to get where she is, and I respect that she does not want to sacrifice that for me.”

He sounded so sincere that Felicity couldn’t help smiling at him, and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. His statements blunted the blow of his rash words. If she didn’t know better she would never believe that this was the same man that tried to order her around last night. 

Lance stood up, and Oliver was rose to his feet a second behind him. They were like two dogs after the same bone. 

“Queen, you might think that you have changed, but all I see is the entitled rich kid who likes to play games that he doesn’t care about winning. Ms. Smoak, you seem like a nice person, but don’t think your smarts will save you from the trouble that Queen causes.”

Lance walked out of the room without so much as a good bye. Hilton watched his partner leave with a patient resignation that made Felicity think that he was use to Lance’s opinion of Oliver. 

“I would apologize for what he said, but we both know he meant it and he would just be upset with me for trying to apologize.” Hilton stood and buttoned his suit jacket before continuing, “Ms. Smoak I’ll let you know if we have any other questions. Thank you for your time.” 

Mr. Durov stood while Hilton shook Felicity and Oliver’s hands. “I’ll show you out Detective.”

Felicity topped off her tea, mostly to keep herself from talking until she was sure the detectives were out of earshot. She took a sip, and counted to ten in Russian before she spoke.

“Why did you say that we were dating?” 

She almost started with something less accusatory, but she figured this was one of those things that was best handled quickly and decisively, like ripping off a band-aid of a massive spam-bot attack.

“We need an explanation that made sense.”

“Us dating doesn’t make sense.” 

Felicity wasn’t selling herself short, but she knew the type of women that Oliver Queen dated and she wasn’t one of them. 

“Why doesn’t it make sense?”

Felicity was beginning to suspect that Oliver’s privileged past had blinded him to certain realities. 

“No one would believe that you would date me.”

“They would believe it.” He said it with the same absolute conviction that he used last night to tell her that he would learn every QC employee. He didn’t sound like an entitled child who assumed he would get whatever he wanted. He sounded like a man who set a goal and accomplished it. 

Oliver fought to keep a grin off his face, “Anyway, it’s a lot less believable that someone like you would want to be with me.”

He actually had a point there. 

Felicity didn’t want to be linked to him—not if it would ruin her reputation at work. She had spent to much time and energy to be taken seriously at QC. Dating the CEO would make all of that superfluous. No matter how great she was people would always think that her position was because of her relationship with Oliver. 

Outside of work she wasn’t much more interested in being Oliver Queen’s girlfriend. She didn’t like the idea of trying to avoid photographers, or worrying about gossip blogs commenting on whether she was pregnant with a burrito baby or the next Queen scion. It would be fun for about five hours, and then she would miss her quiet anonymity. 

And, his being a Bratva captain was another complication that Felicity didn’t want anything to do with. 

“Don’t worry. Lance and Hilton aren’t going to tell anyone, and Dmitri knows that it’s a story to explain what’s happening. Your reputation will remain intact.”

For the first time all morning Oliver’s voice lacked inflection and his face was back to being a blank slate like it was last night when he was rescuing her in the garage. Felicity had quickly gotten use to him expressing at least some small feelings. 

“Well next time—not that there is going to be a next time because really how many times can I almost get kidnapped and you save me and we then have to concoct a story for the police to explain what happened without mentioning the Bratva? But, anyway next time give me a heads up if we are dating. I like to know who my fake boyfriends are before I talk to the police.”

“You have lots of fake boyfriends?”

“I’m ignoring you, and going back to my room to get work done since I am supposedly working from home today. Some of us don’t have our names on the building.”

“What’s the point of being the boss’s fake girlfriend if you can’t slack at work sometimes?”

Felicity pointedly ignored him, even though she was sure that he was in fact teasing her, and started to walk out the room, but then she stopped. 

“Why are you helping me?”

She stayed in the doorway, and Oliver didn’t move, but in the moment her eyes met his she felt like she was sitting next to him on a deserted island and they were the only people in the world.

“The cops are right it doesn’t make sense for you to take in a random employee who’s in trouble. We aren’t dating, and don’t tell me it’s because of who my grandfather is because we both know that his title doesn’t matter to you. You don’t want to be pakhan, you barely tolerate being a captain, so Oliver why are you helping me?

“I know what its like to be forced into a corner and to have the chance to choose taken away from you. I promised myself that I would make sure that others had the choice that I didn’t.”

Twenty-four hours ago she would have said that Oliver Queen had every opportunity growing up, and that life was his for the taking. But, since then she has slept in his castle and walked the same halls as his predecessors. She has seen the crowns that the Queens are forced to wear. 

“Is that why you disappeared for five years?”

“Yes…no.” Oliver stood and walked over to the mantle. He started to study the photo that Lance had been looking at before the interview. 

“Everyone expected me to be something, the perfect boyfriend, the fun best friend, the honorable big brother, the dutiful son. But none of them wanted me to be me. I disappointed all of them. I cheated on my girlfriend, I never valued my friends love, I ignored my sister, and I took advantage of my parents’ sacrifices.” 

He picked up the photo. “I left because someone gave me the chance to choose to become someone different, to become something different. You shouldn’t be forced to be a pawn in the Bratva; you deserve the same chance that I was given to choose who you want to be.”

“Thank you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late, but its a super long update! Take care everyone, and same place, approximately the same time next week!

There was nothing else that she could say to Oliver’s honest answer, so she walked out of the room. She stopped ten feet down the hallway because she realized she wasn’t certain how to get back to her room.

With a little trial and error, but no major detours, she found her way to the kitchen. She was pretty sure that she could find her room from there. However, she didn’t need to try because Leysa was in the kitchen putting away dishes and she was happy to show Felicity back to her room. 

“So you are from Russia?” Making small talk made it feel slightly less like Felicity had become one of the entitled tourists her mother couldn’t stand but had to be nice to for tips. 

“No, miss. Ukraine.” Leysa’a answer was perfectly polite, but her tone was cold and unfriendly. Felicity was sure that she only answered because she felt obligated to because of their respective stations.

“I’m sorry, I just thought your accent sounded Russian, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you where you are from. You don’t have to answer my questions.”

“Ukrainian is very like Russian. Most Ukrainians speak some Russian.” Felicity heard the rest of Leysa’s unspoken statement. She clearly thought that she didn’t have a choice in answering Felicity’s questions no matter what Felicity said about it. 

Felicity had never thought much about choice, or the privilege that was inherently part of being able to make a choice. Even having to make a bad choice, was still better than no choice. 

Her mother chose to walk away from her family, from the Bratva. Deda and Baba let Donna go because they respected her choice, even though it hurt them. They missed her, and they mourned for Donna like they mourned for their sons. Deda and Baba could have taken the choice away from Donna and at least had a relationship with their only living child, but then Donna would have been trapped. 

Deda and Baba let Felicity make her own choices about her involvement with the Bratva too, and as much as her current situation was a result of Deda’s actions, they weren’t forcing to her to marry anyone even though it was the neatest solution for everyone. 

“Leysa, its your choice to answer my questions. I won’t be angry or upset if you don’t, and if anyone has a problem with it, I will handle it.” 

For the first time in her entire life, Felicity sounded like her Baba. She had just issued a command with every expectation that it would be followed, and if that command caused repercussions Felicity—like any good leader—would be the one who answered for the command, not Leysa. 

“Thank you, miss.” Unlike before Felicity did not hear any unspoken words or condemnation for her order. If anything Leysa sounded more respectful than when she was just being polite. “Your room, miss.”

“Oh, I recognize the door! Sorry, I didn’t realize that we were here already. I feel like I need a marauder’s map to find my away around this castle.”

“I don’t know what a marauder’s map is, miss. I can ask Raisa if she—

“It’s a map from Harry Potter. I don’t think Raisa will have one…well probably not. Haven’t you read Harry Potter? Or at least seen the movies?”

“No miss.”

“Well it’s this magical map of Hogwarts, that is their school...I mean the school that Harry Potter…” Leysa was listening to her, but Felicity could tell that the younger woman wasn’t really understanding what she was talking about. “I’ll get you a copy of the first book. You’ll love it. I bet you read the whole series in less than a month. Then we can watch the movies. The movies aren’t bad, but you have to read the books first. Its like a rule.”

“Miss, you don’t need to go to any trouble, not for me!” Leysa actually sounded alarmed that Felicity might inconvenience herself for Leysa. 

Felicity understood that there were probably rules about how people were suppose to treat their maids. But somehow Felicity didn’t think that Oliver would have a problem with her having a movie night with Leysa, and she didn’t really like the idea of rules that said she couldn’t share Harry Potter with another person. Rules like that were stupid and Felicity refused to follow stupid rules. 

“Its really not a problem. I have all the books at my apartment, and the dvds too. It will be fun! I promise.”

“If you say so, miss.”

“Well, I probably took you away from your work. I am sorry about that, but thank you for showing me the way back to my room.”

“You’re welcome, miss.” 

Leysa turned and walked back down the hallway as Felicity entered her room. 

Felicity pushed thoughts of Oliver out of her mind, and focused on getting her work for QC done so that she could start researching the other captains and figuring out which ones posed the greatest threat. 

Since she was little, she had been able to totally focus on one thing, which was good for work, but trying for her mother when Felicity was obsessed with playing gin, hand after hand for as long as Donna could stand it. Felicity was very surprised when the phone in her room started to ring, and she realized that she had been working for almost four hours straight.

Felicity picked up the phone and had a very short, almost rude conversation with Raisa who was upset that Felicity had not eaten lunch. Felicity wasn’t exactly hungry after her breakfast but she figured it was easier to acquiesce. Ten minutes after the phone call Leysa appeared with a lunch tray of grilled cheese, tomato soup and salad. Felicity paused long enough to say thank you, but she ended up eating the food while she was staring at her computer. 

The next time Felicity came up for air, it was almost seven o’clock and she could see the last of the sunlight rapidly disappearing. It didn’t take long for her ask Raisa for another tray of food. Raisa sounded disapproving about Felicity working so much, but Raisa also told Felicity that she and Sara were the only ones at the estate. 

The next morning Felicity was pretty willing to continue with her pattern of eating off of trays while working on her computer. At least it was Saturday so she didn’t have to worry about her work for QC. Raisa said that she would send food up, but if Felicity wanted coffee she would need to come to the kitchen. 

“I was beginning to think that I would never see you again.” Sara was already in the kitchen when Felicity arrived. 

“I’m here only because Raisa is holding the caffeine hostage.” Felicity used the exact same tone that she had perfected at thirteen when her mother said that she was not allowed to attend a LAN party for more than eighteen hours because sleep and food were important. 

Raisa snorted at Felicity’s tone, but did pour her a cup of coffee. “If you worked less I wouldn’t need to hold the coffee hostage. Someone helped themselves to a pot last night at eleven. That is much too late for coffee. 

Felicity’s ears started to burn and she tried to discreetly look around the kitchen to figure out how Raisa knew about that. Felicity hadn’t seen anyone when she came into the kitchen and she was sure that she cleaned up perfectly after herself. 

“Don’t think about it. You’ll drive yourself crazy trying to figure out how she knows. Raisa just knows these things. Personally, I think that the KGB found a way to teach her to read brains. Like a psychic Natasha Romanov.”

Felicity took the stool next to Sara and thanked Raisa for the fruit salad that was place in front of her. After thirty-six hours at the Queen Mansion, it was clear that Raisa seriously believed in eating a well balanced diet. 

“Miss Felicity would you like an omelet for breakfast or something else?”

“I’ll have whatever Sara is having.” It looked like Sara was eating an omelet but it was hard to tell under the mountain of salsa that covered Sara’s breakfast. 

Felicity thought about Sara’s theory before she responded, “The only thing that would make the Black Widow scarier is if she could read minds. She would basically take over the world…except that Tony Stark would think really really disgusting thoughts at her and drive her mad.”

“No way.” Sara paused to put down her fork. “Natasha would tell Pepper about it and Pep would totally beat Tony into submission with her ability to control people. Its her superpower. After that he would only think about unicorns and rainbows when he is around Nat.”

“So basically you think that all the women in the Avengers have badass psychic powers.”

“Not Jane Foster. She just has a super human brain that makes her smarter than the boys.” Sara returned to eating her omelet. 

“So are you stuck at the mansion because I have been doing my best recluse impression?”

“Pretty much.” Felicity must have looked embarrassed and apologetic because Sara quickly added, “Not that I have a problem with hanging out here. There is an awesome gym and I totally marathoned Orange is the New Black yesterday. Basically guarding you is like being on vacation.”

“I nap on vacation and most definitely don’t go to the gym.”

“Well if you want to workout with me today that would be fun.” Sara actually sounded thrilled about the idea of a workout buddy, which was slightly terrifying to Felicity. 

“Uh…what if I wanted to go somewhere? Like my apartment?” 

It took all of herself control, but Felicity was able to stop herself from inhaling the veggie and cheese omelet with toast that Raisa put in front of her. 

“Do you have regular weekend plans?”

“No not really. Grocery shopping, picking up my dry cleaning. Shoe shopping. Sometimes I hangout with my friend Dan. Normal stuff like that. Or I go to work.”

It felt sort of pathetic to admit that her weekends weren’t filled with fun friend dates for yoga and brunch. Felicity had been in Starling City for almost three years, and she had friends. Or, there were people that she got together with for lunch at work and she had a few MIT friends who lived in Starling but they worked as much as she did. She met them for drinks every couple of weeks, which was nice but their conversations were a lot like being a work. 

“Dan?” Sara managed to imply several different questions with the one word.

“My very gay, very busy, friend. We both used to live in Boston.”  
“No plans this weekend with him?”

She did hangout with Dan on the weekends when he was in town but he traveled for work a lot. Also, given the fact that she was in the middle of a Bratva nightmare she really didn’t want to drag him into the mess. 

“He is camping with his boyfriend for their anniversary.”

Dan could handle this whole thing, but his boyfriend Josh would be anxious about the whole thing. Felicity liked Josh, but he was sort of over reacted to situations and this one would cause a lot of drama. Like Dan once forgot his phone at work so Josh didn’t know that Dan had gotten stuck in traffic. Josh called every hospital in Starling before he thought to call Felicity and have her hack the GPS in Dan’s car. 

“That sounds fun!” Unlike Felicity, Sara seemed enthused about spending times in the woods without wifi.

“It sounds like he is dating a hipster.”

“Is he? Dating a hipster?”

“Josh is a barista, rides a fixie, has a beard, and should invest in LL Bean given his flannel collection. He is one tattoo away from Portlandia.”

Sara laughed at Felicity’s description of Josh, “And where does Dan register on the hipster scale?”

“Somewhere between clean shaven SUV owner, and a registered Republican. Dan was at Harvard Business when I was at MIT.”

“Smoak, you really live on the wild side. Its best we avoid things that are part of your regular routine, like a favorite running route on Sunday mornings, but otherwise we can totally go out. Just give me a heads up so I know when and where.”

“Cool and easy since I don’t have a favorite running route because I would have to like running to have one. How about we leave at two? I want to go by my apartment and pick up clothes for work on Monday and a few other things.”

“That sounds great. You should probably pack for the whole week. I don’t think that Oliver is going to want you to go home until its totally safe. We can get a workout in before then if you want.”

“I have lots of stuff to do for my Deda. Maybe tomorrow?” Felicity tried to sound bummed out about missing the workout. As awesome as it would be to have Sara’s abs Felicity would prefer to survive the work out so she could enjoy her muscles even if they weren’t killer awesome.

“Healthy mind, healthy body. Also working out means that I can have hot chocolate with whipped cream. Right, Raisa?”

“Hot chocolate is for children.” 

Raisa seemed to know this game that she and Sara were playing because she got out a jar of Nutella, which Sara liberally spread on her toast. 

“See she is totally Natasha’s cousin.” Sara offered the spread to Felicity who shook her head no. She spread her toast with the homemade strawberry preserves that were sitting on the table instead. 

“What is the deal with you and your grandpa? I mean stories about Zalutsky’s dancing Teacup are pretty much legendary, but Digg always said that you didn’t really want anything to do with the Bratva, at least not when he was your dance partner.”

“I made my Deda watch Beauty and the Beast once with me when I was sick after finals, and all of a sudden I am his dancing teacup.” 

“Grandparents can’t live with them, wouldn’t exist without their genetic contribution.” 

Sara hopped off her stool to make herself more toast. Raisa stopped Sara before she could reach the toaster. Sara sulked back to her seat and scooped a spoonful of nutella out of the jar before Raisa took it away from her. 

“You are going to rot your teeth, Miss Sara.”

“Well then they will match my rotten brain. Seriously, I can’t figure out why you let yourself get wrapped up with the Bratva.”

Felicity had suspected that Raisa was aware of Oliver’s illegal connections, but no one had said anything about the Bratva in front of Raisa since Felicity arrived at the Mansion so Felicity was not sure. 

When she had tried to find out about the Queen family servants last night she kept hitting dead ends. At least in Raisa’s cases Felicity thought it was because she emigrated before electronic records were de facto. As for Leysa her background was so murky that Felicity was certain there was something illegal in it, but maybe not the Bratva. Either way Felicity should have been able to find more than she did about Raisa and Leysa’s pasts.

As for Raisa and Leysa’s current records, Felicity only found innocuous web histories and emails. Leysa’s was entirely in Russian and French, neither of which were languages that Felicity spoke, but she had written a pretty stellar translation program when she started really paying attention to Deda’s business. Russian and French were both languages that she had added to the program already so it didn’t take long to get translations. Leysa seemed to read mostly news sites and listened to a lot of techno pop. Raisa’s history was mostly recipes. Neither emailed much at all and nothing in the emails suggested that either of them had any ties to the Bratva. 

“When I made my deal with Dedashuka I thought that it would end there. John was my third dance partner. Baba sent him because my previous partner tried to get me to sell cocaine to my classmates and I was ready to renegotiate our contract so that I would never have to spend time with the Bratva again. I had barely known my grandparents for five months at that point and Baba knew she needed to play an ace. John was a total gentleman and a great dance partner, but he was clearly in Boston to heal from some trauma. Neither of us really wanted to talk about the Bratva.”

Felicty paused to take a bite of her toast and think about how to explain what happened. This wasn’t a part of herself or her life that she really ever talked about. John had been a friend, but a friend that was totally separate from the rest of her life and even now she kept the Bratva separate from her daily existence. Or she did until two nights ago. 

At first she only saw John for their dance lessons, but when he found out that she took the T home when they finished at nine, he insisted on giving her a ride. During the car rides they talked about baseball, their favorite books, her classes, and his failed marriage. That naturally became getting burgers and milkshakes at this great greasy spoon near her apartment. She figured out pretty early that he was still in love with his wife, even if they were trying out separation. He made it clear that she was basically the little sister he didn’t have and she needed a friend way more than she needed an unrequited crush. 

Sara nodded and waited for Felicity to stop chewing her toast and continue with the story. 

“John was my friend, but only for a few hours a week. I don’t know what he did the rest of the time and he never met any of my friends or even saw the inside of my apartment. We were partners for four months and then he left. We probably should’ve kept in touch, but then we would have had to talk about real life.”

“I get that. I really do. But, Felicity circa 2015 is hella connected to the Bratva even if Felicity circa 2010 was not.”

“Nothing really happened. Or nothing big. Just little things. Deda and Baba talked to me about it and it was interesting. They introduced me to people who I liked. After John left I started a business for people that needed to get sensitive information back from exes.”

“You mean dirty pics?”

“Yeah.” Felicity coughed. Raisa sort of hmmffed as though she was thinking that people who were low enough to use dirty pics against their exes deserved to be hacked. 

“I was totally fighting the good fight, but it was illegal and it made me rethink the idea that the Bratva was totally evil. Maybe sometimes the only way to do the right thing was to do something that was wrong according to society. Plus, I ended up using Bratva techniques to laundry my income and it just sort of snowballed from there.”

“The Bratva isn’t exactly going around righting the world’s wrongs.” Sara is kind when she says it, but her words are strong as steel and just as hard. 

“I know. I always knew, but the challenge and the excitement pulled me in and then I stayed because I love my grandparents, and it feels like home.”

Felicity is sure that she could be happy without the Bratva, but she is not sure that she would be happier without it for all that she might be safer. She would lead the life that she thought she was going to have when she started at MIT. She would graduate, work for a large corporation, make bank, date a perfectly nice investment banker or mid-level executive, and generally act like she wasn’t the daughter of cocktail waitress. Now that life just felt like a wane dream or smart curse. 

Sara doesn’t exactly smile, but Felicity met her eyes she knew that Sara understood exactly why Felicity let herself get sucked in and why she stayed. 

“Thanks for letting me ask you lots of questions. I am going to let you finish your breakfast. I’ll meet you here at one for our field trip.” 

Sara stood up and gathered her empty plate. She fought Raisa off so that she could put her own dishes in the dishwasher. As much as Raisa acted like she was put out, she only argued for a moment before she gracefully let Sara into the business end of the kitchen. 

*****

Felicity stopped herself from trying to press an invisible brake. Normally, she was a relaxed passenger but Sara drove like she was impervious to injury or speeding tickets. Oliver’s Mercedes didn’t balk at Sara’s driving, it just purred the faster they went. Sara deftly merged their car into the highway’s traffic and passed slower moving vehicles with a confident gumption that made Felicity hold her breath. 

Felicity wasn’t about to start a conversation since she really wanted Sara’s attention on the road if she was going to drive like a woman possessed, but Sara did not seem to agree with that idea. 

“I forgot to ask how things went with my dad yesterday. Ollie only said that they avoid brawling because Hilton ran interference.”

“Wait! Lance is your dad!” 

Felicity almost hit Sara in the face with her flailing hands. The dance instructor that Baba chose for Felicity spent three years trying to teach to her control her arms with very little success, but Felicity is slightly less inclined to knock things over when she talks now. 

“Ollie didn’t mention that did he.” 

Sara didn’t sound very surprised that Oliver somehow forgot to mention that the detective investigating the kidnapping attempt also happened to be the father of one of his enforcers. 

“No, Ollie didn’t mention that.” Felicity deadpan answer dripped with disapproval for Oliver “forgetting” to tell her that Lance was Sara’s dad. “ And your last name is Kingston.”

“I use my mom’s maiden name because you know the whole my dad is a cop kind of hurts my reputation with the Bratva.” 

Felicity’s brain was still reeling from the new information and she missed that they were at the off-ramp for her apartment. Sara was still in full possession of her situational awareness skills because she expertly cut across three lanes of traffic to exit the highway. 

“Is that why Lance hates Oliver? Because he brought you into the Bratva?”

“Dad has no idea about the Bratva. He thinks I am an aimless bartender at Verdant. He’s pretty much hated Ollie since he was fourteen for reasons that have nothing to do with me.”

“How long have you known Oliver?”

“Basically my whole life. He and my big sister were inseparable from the time they met in preschool.”

Felicity knew that Oliver and Sara were friends. It was hard to miss their inside jokes and unspoken shorthand, but Felicity hadn’t realized their relationship went so far back.

“Is that your sister in the picture on the mantle in the private sitting room?”

“The one of them at Halloween? Yeah, dad took us all trick-or-treating that year. Ollie and Tommy definitely had the trick part down.”

Sara pulled into the underground parking lot for Felicity’s building, and swiped Felicity’s keycard at the gate station. She had no problem finding Felicity’s parking space and parking in it. Felicity had wanted to bring her mini-cooper, which was parked in Oliver’s garage with his dozen cars, but Sara argued driver got to choose the car and then told Felicity that she would not be driving herself for the foreseeable future. 

Felicity walked over the elevator and pressed the button for her floor. 

“We could take the stairs, since you missed the workout this morning.” 

Sara looked all innocent and sweet when she spoke, but Felicity knew she was a devious mastermind hell bent on burning calories.

“Sure you aren’t a masochist in training?”

“We can stop for donuts on our way back.”

Sara didn’t make a big deal about it when the elevator arrived and they both stepped inside. 

“You are a sugar loving masochist.”

“Right on, sister. Right on.”

When they first left the Queen Estate Sara had explained to Felicity how public outings would work. Sara assured her that it wouldn’t feel weird to have a bodyguard but Felicity wasn’t so sure about that. Felicity had to remind herself to let Sara exit the elevator first, and to let her lead the way to Felicity’s apartment. Sara was the one who unlocked Felicity’s door, and she entered the pass-code for the security system. 

It was still Felicity’s home and Sara was her guest. Sort of.

“Make yourself comfortable. You are welcome to whatever food you can find in the kitchen, I don’t have much in the way of sugar unless you count wine, and my DVR is filled with stuff.”

Felicity pointed to the kitchen, but Sara didn’t seem interested. She followed Felicity into her bedroom.

“So are you going to follow me around all the time?”

“Nope, I just wanted to see how long it takes you to pack. You give Thea a run for her money when it comes to the size of your wardrobe.”

Felicity shrugged her shoulders, “Some people spend their money on vacations or concerts. I buy clothes.”

“No judgment. I eat all the sugar. Its just I was pretty impressed when I packed for you on Thursday.”

Felicity nodded, and went back out to the entryway to get her largest suitcase out from its spot in the back of her coat closet. Sara didn’t follow her, and when Felicity came back into her bedroom Sara had slipped off her motorcycle boots and was sitting crossed legged on Felicity’s bed flipping through the most recent edition of Wired. 

“Comfortable?”

“Very.”

Packing ended up being surprisingly fun because Sara kept interjecting with her opinions about the clothes that Felicity chose. Sara seemed to think that Felicity should pack every miniskirt she owned, and all of her plunging v-necks. Felicity finally had to remind Sara that she was not a bartender and did not work for tips. At that pointed, Sara moved on and went through Felicity’s shoe collection ranking them from not-sexy school-girl to BAMF. 

Felicity made sure to throw the first Harry Potter book into her bag for Leysa before she zipped it up. 

“That didn’t take very long at all. We have plenty of time to get milkshakes!” Sara put her boots back on and started to the front door. She left the suitcase for Felicity to carry. It was probably part of some passive aggressive weight-lifting plan. 

“I thought you wanted donuts.”

“Changed my mind. Milkshakes and french-fries for the win.”

*****

Felicity was sure that no matter how long she lived in Starling she was never going to adjust to how green and lush it was outside the city center. Las Vegas might be a part of her past, but she still assumed that roads leaving any city would be flat and straight, the views expansive and barren, and the air dry and dusty. The drive to the Queen Estate twisted and turned through dense foliage and tall trees that hid the homes like privileged, living curtains. The only thing that was the same was the quiet, which was interrupted by Sara’s cell getting a text message.

Sara didn’t hesitate to take her right hand off the wheel and pull her phone out of her pocket. With an ease that suggested Sara did this often, she read the message and typed an answer back to whoever contacted her. 

“Haven’t you heard that you aren’t supposed to text and drive.”

“Sure, but rules are made to be broken.”

“That’s your life mantra isn’t it.”

“It should be my next tattoo. Hey you want to go see a movie?”

“We are almost back to the mansion. Let’s watch something there. They must have a movie room.”

“It’s not a movie without stale popcorn and junior mints.” 

Sara didn’t wait for Felicity to agree to the change in plans, and executed a decisive turn so the car was headed back to the city.

Sara was definitely the fly by the seat of her pants type, but this weird desire to see a movie felt more like a ploy. 

“Who texted you?”

“My sister. She went to see a movie with her boyfriend and she said that I would like it.”

“Really, what movie?”

“That new romantic comedy with that really hot guy in it whose name I can never remember?”

“You’re a big rom-com fan?”

“Totally.”

“Sara who really texted you?”

“I told—

“You can tell me who it was, or I can hack your phone. Your call.”

If Felicity had to make a wild guess, Sara wasn’t supposed to tell her who sent the message or its the content. 

Sara sighed, “If he asks can you please say that you beat me into submission with your brain? Oliver texted me.”

“About what?” This would go faster if they stopped playing twenty questions.

“Nothing…” Sara glanced at Felicity who had gotten out her own cell phone and pulled up the app that she had written for just this purpose. “You really will hack my phone, won’t you?”

“Absolutely. What did he say? And I am guessing that some of it is about keeping me out of the house.”

“Maksim whatever-his-name just showed up to talk to Oliver.”

“Maksim Gagarin wants to talk about me.” Felicity isn’t really surprised that Gagarin would do something as brazen as showing up at another captain’s house unannounced. He had controlled Starling City’s Bratva since before Felicity was born, and he done it by zigging when most people zagged. 

“You can turn around. We aren’t going to a movie.” Even though the cat was out of the bag, Sara kept driving away from the mansion.

“We could go get a drink and watch the game—

“Sara, turn around. This is about me and I want to be there.” 

Sara worried her bottom lip and for the first time all day clutched the wheel. She didn’t make any move to turn around the car.

“Maksim Gargantuan is dangerous and unpredictable. Oliver is worried what he might do if you are there.”

Felicity did see Oliver’s point. If Gagarin was there to try and take Felicity, it might defuse the whole situation if she wasn’t present. However, Maksim had never favored shows of force. Deda always said he was wilier than andIrish con-man. Felicity stopped playing poker with Maksim when he almost goaded her into betting her skills instead of money. Her Baba had warned her that Gagarin always played to win, and he liked unusual trophies. Felicity was still thankful that she walked away from that game without any debts. 

“Maksim Gagarin is impulsive and a blowhard, but he’s also smart and he’s dangerous whether I am there or not. If he wanted to take me by force he wouldn’t have knocked on the front door.” 

“I get that, but Oliver ordered me to keep you safe.”

“Sara, you can turn this car around or you can take me back to the city. If you choose the former I will continue to cooperate with Oliver’s over-protective papa bear act. If you choose the latter, I will be leaving Oliver’s care and none of you will be able to find me because your computers, phones, and bank accounts will never work again.”

Oliver probably would have used a scary voice, and her Baba would have added a stare that made it clear that this was no idle threat. Felicity didn’t do either of those things. She smiled like her Deda. Her smile wasn’t a toothy shark smile like Mr. Durov’s. It was simpler and sweeter and said this is who I am, I know how strong I am, and I will win this fight if it was the last thing I do.

“When he yells at me I am passing the buck and blaming you.”

“Fair. This decision is on me.” 

Sara changed directions with a break neck turn that took Felicity’s breath away and left rubber skids on the road.

“Next time you can turn the car around less like a Nascar driver, and more like a suburban soccer mom in a Dodge Caravan.”

“Soccer moms are vicious.”

Felicity didn’t bother to respond. Sara wanted the last word after Felicity won their battle of wills and Felicity knew she lost nothing by giving Sara this minor victory; it was a balm to Sara’s ego. 

Instead of continuing the conversation Felicity pulled her phone out of her purse. She had no intention of walking into the Queen mansion blind if she could help it. Felicity wasn’t sure how much she would be able to find because Maksim Gagarin, unlike many of the other captains in the Bratva, had never discounted Felicity’s intellect or skills. If anything Maksim sought her out when his son told him about his new dance partner. 

Felicity finished up emailing her grandfather when the iron gates to the estate eased open for their car. There wasn’t much Deda could do about Maksim Gagaring deciding to visit Oliver, and punishing Maksim like he did Bespalov would only make Maksim invested enough in the situation to cause problems. 

Sara pulled the car around to the garage and the servant’s entrance to the kitchen. Its name seemed to be a holdover from a bygone era because it looked like everyone preferred to park their cars in the back and use the more causal entrance. 

Sara parked the car and got out of it before she realized that Felicity was still buckled into her seat. 

“Are you touching up your make-up?”

“Just my lipstick. I plan on smiling a lot.”

“You are so weird.”

“Why thank you.” 

They walked into the kitchen, which was dark and empty. Felicity was surprised that Leysa and Raisa didn’t appear as soon as they walked in. “Where do you think this meeting is taking place?”

“The drawing room.”

“This place is surreal.”

“I know. Wait till you see the secret passages.” Sara led Felicity out of the kitchen and down the hallway that Felicity thought lead to the house’s grand public spaces. 

“Secret passages? Really?” 

They walked though the grand atrium and came to a set of massive doors. Felicity had to arch her neck to see the top of the doorway and she easily could have driven her mini-cooper through if both doors were open. Sara was also obviously right that this was where the meeting was taking place because there were two large men who lacked necks but had very large biceps and shoulders standing in front of the door. 

Felicity had met the shorter and wider man before when she had dinner at Gagarin’s house. She didn’t recognize the other fellow that had a hint of a neck, but Sara nodded at him and he retuned the greeting politely. He probably worked for Oliver then. 

“I’m sorry ladies it’s a private meeting between Mr. Gagarin and Mr. Queen.” 

The taller one spoke as soon as Felicity and Sara stopped in front of the closed doors.

“It’s a private meeting between Mr. Gagarin, Mr. Queen, and me.” Felicity stressed the part about her being part of the meeting. “Please open the door.”

Neither man moved.

The shorter one spoke this time, “We were given strict instructions to make sure they were not disturbed. They are discussing important matters.” 

He made no attempt to hide his condescending opinion of Felicity joining a discussion about important business matters behind a polite voice. 

Felicity looked back slightly to meet Sara’s gaze. Sara’s shoulders were squared, but her arms were loose and the rest of her posture was falsely nonchalant. She met Felicity’s eyes and pressed her lips together as a silent answer to Felicity’s unasked question. Sara was willing to try and get past the men with physical force, but she wasn’t making any promises about the outcome. Even if they were able to physically get past them, Felicity was sure that the meeting in the drawing room would be halted, if not ended, by the disturbance and that’s not what she wanted to happen. If this whole situation wasn’t handled decisively right now, next time Felicity might not learn about it in time to be included. 

She had planned for this possibility when she prepared during the ten minutes she had in the car. She had all the information she needed up on her phone and she texted it to her Deda. Before she could count to five the shorter man’s phone started to ring. He looked surprised, which made sense because he had put it on silent. 

“You had better pick it up.” 

He ignored her and declined the call. 

Stupid.

His phone started ring again, but this time it was playing Justin Bieber and getting louder. He quickly declined the call and tried to turn his phone off. His face got redder, and his fingers gripped the phone and kept trying to stab the command to shut it off but nothing he did worked. By now Justin Bieber was loud enough to echo down the hallway. 

“I told you that you had better pick it up.”

The taller man tried to smother a smug laugh at the shorter man’s discomfort when his own phone started to blare Britney Spears. His eyes blew up and his color waned and when he read the message that had appeared on the screen. He accepted the call and raised the phone to his ear as his fingers shook. 

Based on the taller man’s reaction, the shorter one finally read the message on his screen and gulped like a first time skydiver about to jump from the plane who just registered the distance to the ground. 

The taller man didn’t try to say anything; he just listened to the other person on the phone and nodded his head. He managed to stutter something that sound like “absolutely, sir” before he hung up the phone.

“Ms. Smoak. I am so sorry. I didn’t know you were Mr. Zalutsky’s representative—

Felicity walked right past both men who quickly stepped out of her way and opened the door into the drawing room. Sara followed, two steps behind her. 

As Felicity stepped across the threshold she recognized the drawing room because it was on the yearly house tour. At the time she found it impossible to imagine people actually using the room if only because of its sheer size. It was at least as big as a tennis court and had tall enough ceilings that basketball hoops would easily fit. It was also one of the rooms in the Castle that remained essentially the same since Henry Queen had designed it. 

The room was bright and cheerful for all of its imposing flashiness. It was painted a creamy ecru that contrasted nicely with the intricate gold plaster moldings that framed the doorways, windows, and created separate spaces along the massive walls. In those spaces hung masterpieces better suited to the Starling City Museum of Art. One of the longer walls was lined with windows based on the one at Versailles that over looked the lawn where supposedly Henry Queen had liked to practice archery. The three chandeliers that hung in the room were actually from Versailles and the French government tried to buy them back in the seventies but the Queen family had refused.

The drawing room was filled with small groupings of moderately uncomfortable furniture in various warm shades of green. According to the tour guide Henry Queen had not wanted guests to feel so comfortable that they would take a seat and linger. It was one of the rooms that the visitors had been allowed to sit on the furniture, but Felicity had been too intimidated by the ornate antiques and rich velvets and satins to see if it was true. Her mother had told her that the chairs did have straight backs and unforgiving seats. Donna spent most of the time in the room walking around and making friends instead of sitting to the sides. 

There was a more intimate grouping of loveseats and wing-backed chairs around the massive fireplace that was big enough that it could have been a comfortable bedroom for Cinderella. The mantle was dressed with a Faberge egg that was actually a clock with a jeweled canary that sang on the hour. Matching urns holding fresh roses that Felicity could smell from the doorway flanked the egg. Henry Queen, or at least his painted likeness, presided over all of it in a life-sized portrait. 

As places to meet an opponent went, the room set a tone totally in Oliver’s favor and Felicity understood for the first time why Henry Queen had spent so much time on the room’s details. 

Oliver appeared to have taken a page out of his ancestor’s playbook because he was standing under Henry’s portrait in much the same casually commanding posture, though he was not wearing the three piece suit, pocket square and watch fob that added to Henry’s aplomb. Oliver’s hands were in the pockets of his dark jeans, and his arms were relaxed for all that his legs were set and his body locked as though he would not be moved by a mother nature, let alone a mere mortal. 

Oliver saw her a moment before Gagarin did, which was long enough for a hurricane to build in Oliver’s blue eyes. Gagarin must have seen the weather shift in Oliver’s expression because he turned and looked behind the couch where he was sitting. 

“Felicity—

“Ms. Smoak—

“Gentlemen. I seem to have lost my invitation to this little soiree.” 

Gagarin stood as she approached and gestured for her to join them. Felicity hadn’t seen him in almost six months, but he hadn’t change much. He was one of those people who looked old at thirty, middle aged at forty, and young at fifty-five. He had never lost his wrestler’s physique, and he still liked to demonstrate that what he lacked in height and lost from age he made up for in plain meanness on the mat. His skin was always tan from daily games of tennis with his wife and his perfect teeth a startling white. The legend was that his wife only agreed to marry him after he capped his teeth. Felicity had never had the gumption or the nerves to ask him about it, but knowing Susie and her intense focus on perfect appearances, Felicity had always believed the story. 

Unlike Gagarin, Oliver did nothing to welcome her to their conversation. He crossed his arms, and his face lost what little emotion he normally showed as she took a seat on the couch across from Gagarin. 

John was leaning up against a bookcase next to the fireplace and he made no effort to hide his grin at her entrance. Mr. Durov was seated in one of the wingback chairs and he nodded to her. Felicity wasn’t sure if it was in greeting or as a warning to behave and mind what she said and did in front of Gagarin. She returned his nod with one of her own that she hoped reminded him that she belonged here if for no other reason then she was the topic of conversation. 

Seated in the chair next to Mr. Durov was a man that Felicity had never met, but recognized by reputation. As far as anyone knew, Jonny Cash was born at thirty with several dozen tattoos, including one of Mt. Rushmore on his neck, and the skills to kill a person six different ways while his hand were tied behind his back. In most organizations Cash would have been an enforcer, but Gagarin somehow discovered that Cash’s name was a reflection on his ability to make money and not his taste in music. For the last ten years Cash had overseen Gagarin’s operations and made them both very wealthy. 

Sara ended up in the other corner, across from John, and in much the same pose of cool indifference. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Smoak. I assumed that Queen would invite you.” 

Gagarin looked at Oliver as he spoke. Oliver stood still and stared right back at Gagarin who leaned back on the coach and spread one of his arms across the back. He swirled his drink rhythmically in his other hand and waited to see how Felicity would react to his statement and Oliver’s lack of reaction. 

Felicity remembered that he always liked to start a game with an aggressive bet. 

Felicity picked up the crystal tumbler on the table in front of her. It was filled with two fingers of whiskey and ice. Based on the condensation that had built up on the sides of the glass it looked like Oliver had poured it for himself out of politeness. She raised the glass to her lips and took a healthy sip for courage before standing and walking towards Oliver. 

Felicity’s bet depended on Oliver’s fast reactions and steely resolve to pull this off because she knew that if their positions were reversed she would only manage awkward flailing, which was pretty much what happened when he did this to her yesterday with Lance and Hilton. 

Felicity pushed herself into his personal space until she felt like she was going to burn up from the heat rolling off of him. She pressed herself up until her breasts grazed his chest and slide her hand around his neck so that she had the leverage to reach the last inch and kiss him. 

Her bet was good because as soon as she shifted her weigh to balance against him, Oliver adjusted so that she was leaning closer to him, but felt like she would never fall again. Both his hands wrapped around her waist. One inched up along her backbone and held her to him, the other fingers dripped down her backside and splayed across the gentle curve of her hips. 

She meant to keep this to a peck on the lips, really just a touch of skin without any emotional fortitude or promise. It might have even started out that way, but it quickly changed into a kiss with intention. Felicity willed herself to pull away when all she wanted to do was hold on tight and let the storm of emotion wash her off the safe ship she had been sailing on before she met Oliver. 

As she pulled away Oliver’s fingers dug into her hip. He clung to her like she was a buoy in treacherous waters. Felicity didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that her face was flush, and her lips pink like she had spent the day on a windswept beach. When their kiss broke, he pressed his forehead to hers and spoke so quietly she felt it more than she heard it, “I’m sorry.”

She hoped that he was apologizing for telling Sara to keep her out of the house, and not for the kiss. She was the one who started it, and as much as it was suppose to be an act, she knew that some important part of it was real. Felicity never wanted Oliver to apologize for his feelings because it made her ashamed of her own feelings. 

Felicity rubbed her thumb along the back of his neck and hoped that he understood that he didn’t need to apologize for the kiss, and that she forgave him for trying to keep her out of this meeting. 

“I’m still training Oliver. It’s a process”

She took her seat again across from Gagarin and this time Oliver sat next to her, close enough that their thighs were pressed together and it was easy and comfortable to hold hands. Maksim responded to their body language and shifted so he was focused on Felicity. 

“I knew Susie was serious about me when she took the time to break my bad habits, like a dog you want to live in the house with you.”

Oliver hand tightened ever so slightly, but Felicity spoke before he could do anything else.

“Oh, nothing that strenuous. Oliver’s already housebroken.”

Gagarin’s laugh was all teeth and throaty barks that grated on Felicity’s nerves, but she knew that it was a good sign that he found this whole exchange amusing. He lifted his glass to her and took a drink. 

“And it would have been hard for Oliver to invite me since I believe you showed up unannounced.” She picked up her whiskey and took a small taste before she handed it to Oliver. “I assume you were in the neighborhood and just dropped in for a friendly visit.”

Mr. Durov shuffled his feet, and wiggled slightly in his seat. He tried to meet Felicity’s eyes, but she refused to acknowledge the warning that he was trying to give her. She knew that she was navigating a very narrow straight here. 

“We are friends, aren’t we Felicity?” Maksim didn’t wait for an answer to his question. “You could’ve come to me for help when your grandfather became too sick to protect you. ”

“Deda is sick—he’s not dead…well, he is still pakhan and he will always be my grandpa and I don’t need you to step in an fill either of those roles. Uh, thanks for offering?”

“If Felicity needs anything or to be protected I will take care of it Gagarin.” 

Oliver spoke at the same time that she did, which was just as well because the reminder that Deda was sick and only going to get worse was a blow that threw her off balance. She needed to learn to expect attacks on this front. 

“Of course, Queen, but you really don’t know the Bratva in the states. I know that Knyazev thought that you could handle his Russian operation, but here you are just his untested Koroleva captain. Its not like you have made any effort to expand the Bratva here in Starling.” Maksim shrugged and spread his hands as though that would blunt his belief that Oliver was essentially play-acting at being in the Bratva. 

“Now, Maksim that is unfair. Oliver’s minimal operation is out of respect for you and your position here in Starling. I am sure that you appreciate that you have not had to defend your operation since he returned.” 

Somehow Mr. Durov managed to make his comment sound like a simple observation and a mild reprimand without actually sounding disapproving. It was only after the words settled that Felicity also heard the clever threat as well. 

Cash, who had been sitting quietly and observing until this point, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small black reporter’s notebook and jotted down something. He gently tapped his pencil on the cover and stared at the painting of Henry Queen when he was finished writing.

“Alan, lets not assume that Queen would cause me any pause if he did set up a full operation here. As Felicity knows it takes more than money and a well known name hold power amongst us.”

“I do know what it takes to rule, Maksim. Don’t you think that I would seek those skills out in a partner?” 

She released Oliver’s hand and moved her hand so that it rested possessively on his rock hard thigh. Oliver shifted his arm on so that it was resting over her shoulders and she could nestle into his body an inch more. 

“You are already a queen, Felicity. Choosing the wrong king…it will end badly for you.”

She gripped Oliver’s thigh and mentally urged him to hold his position. She couldn’t stop John though. As Maksim spoke John immediately came to attention and lost the air of informal boredom that he had maintained since Felicity and Oliver sat down. He stood up straight, braced his feet and his arms tensed. His eyes shifted between her and Maksim. She could tell he was torn between moving to defend her or attacking the threat. He met Oliver’s eyes, nodded to the corner where Sara was and focused on Maksim. 

Felicity couldn’t see Sara from her seat without turning around and she wasn’t given Gagarin that satisfaction, but she imagined that Sara’s stance mirrored John’s now. 

“That’s not a threat. It’s the truth, ma’am.” Cash spoke for the first time. His voice was scratchy and oddly paced and he annunciated each word with slow exactitude. Unlike John he hadn’t tensed or ready for a fight. Either he was obtuse, or he wasn’t particularly concerned about John, Oliver, and Sara being able to hurt him. 

“And, you have a suggestion for my king? I don’t see a ring on your hand Mr. Cash.” She fought to keep from laughing at their mutual arrogance that they could persuade her to agree to this plan. 

Cash blushed a deep rose that was easy to see even with his swarthy complexion and heavy five o’clock shadow. Maksim had to put his glass down he was laughing so hard. 

“Don’t embarrass the boy. He would let you get away with everything under the sun when you smile at him. You need a king with more backbone and he doesn’t know the first thing about being king.” Cash didn’t seem particularly bothered by Maksim’s description of the situation, though Felicity imagine the words had to cut deep since Cash deserved most of the credit for Gagarin’s wealth. “My son—

“Is a good man who has no interest in marrying me.” 

“You are friends, he would support you totally, and he is already well-trained if somewhat weak but you have balls enough for three men. Think of the empire that you would be in charge of—

“Have you run this idea past him?” Felicity knew that she had interrupted Gagarin twice, but she was losing patience quickly. It was in character for him to sell his son in marriage. She already knew the answer, so she kept going, “and what makes you think that Oliver would let me leave even if I was to agree to your offer.” 

She didn’t need to point out that they were sitting in his castle, on a property bigger than some universities, and that Oliver had more resources at his personal disposal than Felicity and Maksim combined. Maksim’s plan seemed to hinge on the assumption that Oliver would agree to Felicity leaving his protection. For all that Maksim seemed to think that Oliver lacked ambition, Maksim was not acting like Oliver was a toothless opponent. Felicity was also certain that their display of affection meant that Maksim no longer thought this was exclusively a business relationship, if he ever had. He came here sure that he could persuade Oliver to forsake Felicity, and he made sure to do it the first time Felicity left the estate. 

“Queen is a modern man. He knows that you are an independent woman capable of choosing what she wants.”

“Why are you so certain she wouldn’t choose me?” Oliver said it while he gestured around the grand room that they were sitting in and with the confidence that comes from knowing he was one of the ten most eligible bachelors in the country according to six different publications. 

“Because you are going to take yourself out of the running.” Maksim Gagarin spoke with a similar confidence that left Felicity feeling like they were in the eye of the storm.

“Really?” Oliver’s voice was rife with the superiority and disdain that was probably part of his one-percenter genetic code.

“Yes, because I will tell you who arranged for your father’s murder if you give me Felicity.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I disappeared. I needed some time off from this story, and more importantly some time to iron out the plot. Plot is REALLY hard, you guys! Thanks for everyone who has been following this story and for the kudos and the comments. I really appreciate them.
> 
> I am hopeful that I will be back to my posting schedule of once a week on Saturdays.

Felicity hadn’t been expecting Maksim’s offer. She didn’t know if it was a surprise to Oliver too but his reaction was as fast as an arrow shot from a tight bowstring, and just as direct. He stood, so that Felicity was behind him. She could feel the tense energy rolling off of Oliver’s shoulders like gale force winds.

“Absolutely not.” Oliver paused, he really didn’t need to go on because his refusal was clear from the steel tone of his voice to his tightly clenched fists.

Felicity appreciated his quick response and his clear refusal to put her in danger, but she knew that this information had to be valuable to him. Maksim wouldn’t have offered it if he didn’t think there was a very good chance that Oliver would make the deal. It wasn’t fair to make him give up this deal just because it put her in a precarious position.

“Oliver, you don’t—

“I do, Felicity. And its not because he is bargaining for you. I will not make a deal with someone who is willing to threaten anyone’s safety to get what he wants.”

Cash spoke before Felicity could respond, “You have odd morals for a Bratva captain.”

If Gagarin had said those words, Felicity would be certain they were meant as an insult, but Cash seemed to mean it as a begrudging compliment if she was interpreting his unusual stop and start way of speaking.

“Odd or otherwise, this meeting is over gentlemen and my generosity as your host is approaching its limit.”

“Queen, don’t be so fast to turn down my offer. I won’t make it again.”

That clearly was a threat. Gagarin was the type of sore loser who would make sure that Oliver would never learned who killed his father if Oliver turned down Gagarin’s offer.

“That’s good because if you do ever threaten Felicity’s safety again, or try and manipulate me, I will cut out your tongue. If you touch her or attack me to get to her, I will break every bone in your body. I might not have any interest in your position, but I will take it from you if that it the best way to protect me and mine.”

Cash didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up and looked ready to leave. Gagarin stayed sitting. Even with Oliver still standing in front of her, Gagarin was able to meet her eyes.

“You know I am serious. Are you willing to let him lose the chance to avenge his father?” Gagarin could not resist emphasizing his words and he pointed at her as he continued. “He will regret this choice. He will regret choosing you.”

Gagarin finished speaking with an adamant finger wag in her direction that made her want to laugh. It was suppose to be intimidating but it made him look like an old man lecturing a young person for embracing technology that he did not understand.

Gagarin’s attention was focused totally on Felicity so he didn’t see Oliver’s muscles tighten as he spoke. Gagarin didn’t notice that Oliver’s weight shifted to the balls of his feet, his knees bent slightly, and his shoulders set. Felicity saw it only because whenever Oliver was near her she found it impossible to fully ignore him.

Gagarin leaned closer towards her and Oliver sprang into action. Hi right hand lashed out and grabbed Gagarin’s finger and after that Oliver moved too quickly for Felicity to follow his movements. All she knew was that before she could let go of her breath Oliver had Gagarin pinned to the floor.

“Its my choice to make, Maksim and I won’t regret it.”

Oliver must have wrenched Maksim’s shoulder even farther back because the only thing that Gagarin did was to grunt a painful reply.

Everyone else in the room shifted their positions as soon as Oliver moved for Gagarin. Durov seemed to sink into his chair, as though he wanted to be the smallest target possible. Like a magician, Cash pulled a gun from thin air and calmly pointed it at Oliver. Digg also drew his gun and had it pointed at Cash. Sara moved into Felicity’s range of vision and was also holding a gun pointed at Cash.

Oliver slowly pulled Gagarin up so they were both standing, but he kept the older man immobilized in front of him so that it was much harder for Cash to get a clean shot. Gagarin struggled slightly. He was too good of a wrestler not try and find the weak points in Oliver’s hold on him. Oliver did something that Felicity couldn’t see and Gagarin stopped trying to wiggle free.

“Cash, relax. I am not going to hurt him…more. You can walk out of here. Its your choice.”

Oliver seemed certain that Cash would cooperate because Sara lowered her weapon, which Felicity was sure was because Oliver signaled her to do that.

Cash’s focus never waivered, but he nodded after a moment of thought and quietly holstered his gun.

“You told Maksim what you would do if he ever threatened Felicity.” Cash shrugged his shoulders and ignored that his boss’s frown was now turned on him. “Its not my job to clean up when he is stupid.”

Cash turned and walked to the doors back to the great atrium. He didn’t wait for Oliver say that he was free to go or to see if Oliver released Maksim.

By this point, Maksim’s face was beet red and he looked ready to tear down the Queen Mansion stone by stone. He had kept his mouth shut for longer than Felicity had expected, but he couldn’t hold it for ever.

“Felicity, if its not me it will be someone like Sergei Zakharov. Do you think that he will be civilized enough to bargain for you? Do you think that he will care about your talent or your interests?” Maksim’s words cut coldly through Felicity like he intended.

“Then Zakharov will learn that I am not a pawn. As you said I am a queen. The Bratva needs to learn how powerful I am.”

Sara looked ready to cheer her on, like a very dangerous, rather violent cheerleader. Oliver’s smile was harder to read, but Felicity felt a warm wave of approval wash over her when she met his eyes.

Felicity shifted her attention from Oliver to Gagarin, who still pinned by the younger man. Gagarin had stopped struggling, and when her eyes met his he bowed his head ever so slightly. It was subtle, but he acted with perfect control and held his gaze below her for a deliberate moment.

Felicity almost lost her composure when she realized that Gagarin was recognizing her as his equal. She met Gagarin the first time when she was twenty-two when he came to Boston to visit his son. Gagarin took them out to dinner and during the evening asked intelligent questions about Felicity’s research and never underestimated Felicity’s intelligence when they ended up in a backroom poker game. But he had never treated her like an equal before.

She smiled. Gagarin knew what it meant. Next time he would try and make his deal with her.

Oliver didn’t notice the interaction between the two, or he didn’t recognize the significance because he turned to Digg and Sara who were waiting at attention.

“Digg, Sara can you please see Mr. Gagarin off the property.”

Oliver released Gagarin who gingerly cradled the hand that Oliver had grabbed in the beginning of the takedown.

“My offer is off the table Queen. I would wish you good luck finding out who killed your father, but I hope that not knowing eats away at whatever soul you still have.”

Gagarin might be willing to concede that Felicity won this round with her wiles, but his ego wasn’t going to recover from Oliver physically besting him. It was a problem that Felicity was willing to deal with later because she wanted to savor her small victory.

Oliver didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at Gagarin, and refused to meet Felicity’s eyes when he glanced over at her. He walked over to the mantle, and leaned his head against the cool marble.

Digg and Sara collected Gagarin and ushered him out of the room without fanfare or more drama.

“Oliver, Maksim may be an ass to his friends, but you don’t want him as your enemy.”

Mr. Durov either didn’t notice Oliver’s distress or didn’t care. Felicity responded to his comment without thinking,

“Maksim should be more concerned about having Oliver and me as enemies. Unless you have something helpful to say, this isn’t the time.”

Durov opened his mouth, and then shut it. Twice.

“I knew your uncle Anton, Ms. Smoak. He would have liked you when you weren’t turning his hair gray. I wish I could wash my hands of you and give him this headache.”

Oliver made a noise, almost a growl, at Durov’s last comment.

Durov didn’t roll his eyes. He was too dignified for that, but he couldn’t stop himself from shaking his head in exasperation at Oliver’s behavior. “Calm down, youngster. I like the lady and her moxie.”

Felicity felt her cheeks blush. Durov didn’t seem like the type to waste time on people that gave him headaches unless they were worth it. Oliver relaxed slightly, but his hands still gripped the mantle.

“And she is right, I have nothing helpful to say about your decision to alienate Maksim.” Durov checked his watch. “I am going to excuse myself and hopefully make the second half of my son’s game. We’ll talk on Monday. Please avoid making any new enemies until then. And that goes for both of you.”

Felicity’s dad left before she was old enough to learn what his dad-voice sounded like so she didn’t have a lot to compare Durov’s tone to, but he sounded a lot more like a dad than like a lawyer.

“We’ll be on our best behavior, Mr. Durov.”

“That’s what worries me, young lady.” He showed himself to the door. As soon as the door shut behind him, Felicity flopped back into the couch and let out a very unladylike sigh.

“Life is way more exciting since I met you, Oliver. I seriously need to work on my drama barometer.”

“Drama barometer?”

“Yes the tool I use to forecast how exciting my day will be. My normal Saturday is more like ‘wear yoga pants all day and an evening with Ben and Jerry.’”

“And today?”

“Somewhere between telenovela and I think aliens invaded while I was sleeping.”

Normally, Felicity would be embarrassed to explain that she did in fact measure her life on with a drama barometer. Most of the time her life was so boring, even she realized that she should be more exciting. But, then things like Oliver or Cooper happened and she discovered whole new levels of drama to measure.

“That bad?”

“Drama’s not bad. I mean personally aliens invading sounds pretty horrible, but I have always thought living in a telenovela would be kind of fun. And my hair would be fantastic. It’s a telenovela rule. Everyone has great hair.”

Oliver let go of the mantle and took the seat next to her. He leaned back into the cushions like she was, and he put his feet up on the coffee table next to hers, but his actions were too deliberate and controlled to be relaxed.

“Great hair is worth finding out that the person you think is your twin brother was switched at birth, and your real brother was raised by local crime boss, and your supposed twin gets so upset when he finds out that his father is a criminal that he throws acid on his bio-dad’s face so your real brother swears to avenge his father and accidentally kills your parents—

“What telenovela is this? I would totally watch it. Assuming supposed twin and bio-brother are hot, but of course they are—it’s a telenovela.”

“I was making it up.”

“Oh. Well if this billionaire-slash-bratva thing doesn’t work out for you, you totally have a future writing crazy-over-the-top tv shows.”

“Thanks.”

It was nice to sit with him and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes Felicity forgot what it was like to just talk with another person about nothing. The only person that she ever talked to about whatever popped into her head was her grandmother, and it wasn’t the same on the phone. She used to do this with Lucy when they moved off campus. They would sit on the balcony of their apartment and come up with more and more ludicrous names for their future children. They had settled on Kale Kimberly or K.K. for short for a girl and Mellow Beau for a boy. Sara would probably be very good at that game, but she didn’t seem like the type to spend an afternoon eating brownies and watching John Hughes films.

“Do you want to talk about it? Whatever happened to your dad?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Felicity regretted them. It went from feeling like a sunny day at the beach to a harsh fall storm. At least talking about his dad would be better than talking about their feelings.

“You don’t have to talk about it. I mean…its just… I could have dealt with Maksim. He isn’t the worst option for me so you didn’t have to turn down the deal because you have feelings for me…Of course you have feelings about me but I am assuming you have feelings for me that aren’t total annoyance or disgust because kissing you isn’t disgusting…Shutting up in three, two, one.”

Felicity winced at her words, and the way that she strung them together. She had wanted to avoid talking about their feelings. Either Oliver was really good at faking what he felt, which she didn’t think was the case, or their feelings were mutual and that… that might hurt less immediately but it was going to be so much more complicated. Their feelings could just stay the elephant in the room. Even if that elephant was becoming a good friend who was welcome to stay for dinner.

Something about Oliver made her even more inclined than normal to put her foot in her mouth. Oliver had either developed immunity to her particular type of oral embarrassment or was too kind to comment.

“I turned down the deal because my dad would have been disappointed in me if I took it.”

“Your dad sounds like a good guy.”

Oliver didn’t say anything and Felicity thought about saying more, but silence seemed like a better choice. She was happy that she kept quiet when Oliver spoke a few minutes later.

“He wasn’t a good guy. He cheated on my mom, he knew that I cheated on my girlfriend and didn’t care. He cared more about QC’s bottom-line than he did about doing the right thing. I know he broke the law to make money.”

“Why would he be disappointed if you took the deal then?”

“He was trying to change, to make up for his wrongs, or I think he was.”

Oliver reached into one of his pants pockets and pulled out a small black notebook that with dog-eared corners and a broken spine. The whole thing crinkled when he touched it, like it had once gotten really wet.

“I was suppose to go with him on the Queen’s Gambit. He wanted us to spend time together and he said that he needed to talk to me. I didn’t really want to talk to him so I tried to bring a girl with me. He refused to let her on the yacht and told me I shouldn’t be cheating on my girlfriend so I refused to go. The last words I ever said to him was that he was a controlling hypocrite who I was ashamed to call my father.”

Felicity didn’t know what to say to Oliver’s admission. She is sure that his dad knew that Oliver loved him no matter what words Oliver said. The last time her mother spoke to Deda and Baba she accused them of being selfish and not caring about Felicity’s safety—just like they didn’t care about the safety of their own children. Felicity knew that her mom’s words hurt Deda and Baba, but that they still loved Donna unconditionally.

Since she couldn’t think of what to say she shifted to her side and wrapped her arm around Oliver. It wasn’t quite a hug, but it was as good as she could do under the circumstances. It must have been enough for Oliver to know what she meant because he wrapped his arms around her too.

“He always had this notebook with him. I use to wonder what was in it.”

“Did he give it to you before he died?”

“No, he must have taken it with him because I couldn’t find it anywhere when I looked for it after he died.”

“How did you get it then?”

“Someone sent it to me in Moscow, four years after the Gambit sank.”

Oliver opened the notebook and turned it to a page almost in the back. Felicity could see that most of the pages were blank, but now the one that Oliver stopped at. That one had a short message in clear simple handwriting. He held it up for her to read.

_Oliver, I hope that this notebook gets to you. ~~He said he would~~ I did things that I regret—things that I am ashamed of doing. You’re right, I am not the man that you thought I was. I poisoned Starling and QC. I don’t have time to tell you everything, but its all in this notebook._

_I tried to fix my mistakes but they stopped me. Maybe you can save the city and the Queen name. I believe that you are strong enough to do it._

_I love you son. I will always love you. Be the man that I was too weak to be._

“Oh.”

“He didn’t die when the Gambit sank.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Oliver opened the back cover and pulled a small picture out of the envelope that was attached there. It was a picture of Robert Queen holding a copy of the Star City News-Press. The headline said “Robert Queen Lost at Sea.”

“This was in the notebook when I got it.”

“Do you think that he is still alive.”

“No. I have been able to confirm that he died shortly after this picture was taken. I think after he wrote me this note.”

Oliver ran his fingers along the edge of the photo. The movement was unconscious, but well practiced and graceful. Felicity wondered how many times he had held this picture and thought of being a better man than his father. She was guessing lots, probably hundreds if not thousands of times, given the way his fingers knew their path.

“If you don’t know who sent it, how did they find you in Moscow?”

Oliver cut her off before she could ask more questions, “I don’t know Felicity. I have been trying to figure it out. Its why I came back to Starling.”

“Its why you turned down Anatoly, isn’t it? You want to be a better man than your father.”

“I don’t think that I can do that in the Bratva. The things that I did for Anatoly… I wasn’t a good person in Russia. I thought I left that behind but Gagarin says that he knows who killed my father. He might be lying—

“Maksim doesn’t bluff. He knows something. We will figure out another way find out who killed your dad.”

It would be hard. Gagarin knew her well enough that he wouldn’t put something on a network that she could hack. She scooted around so that she could look Oliver in the eyes. “I promise Oliver.”

“You don’t have to—

“It’s my choice and I want to help you avenge your father’s murder.”

*****

“I don’t like it Teacup.” Deda didn’t mince words. “Gagarin is right that there will be other attempts and they won’t be as amateurish as Bespalov’s or as civilized as Gagarin’s offer.”

“I know, but—

“At least Gagarin thinks that you and Queen are getting tea together.”

“Baba!”

“SOPHIE!”

Deda and Felicity spoke at the same time, which happened quite a lot when she was on the phone with both her grandparents. Sophie excelled at pushing both their buttons.

“Leo stop being a prude. We need grandbabies and Oliver seems like a decent enough sort and think how pretty our grandbabies will be.”

“BABA!” Now Felicity sounded as horrified as Deda had a moment before. “There will be no talk of grandbabies. Especially about Oliver and—Nope, we are not talking about this. EVER.”

“What your grandfather also doesn’t want to admit is that it’s a good story. Gagarin’s sharp enough to wonder why Oliver is protecting you since the boy continues to insist that he has no interest in being a real captain.”

Felicity thought about telling her grandparents that it wasn’t a lie—that she and Oliver were probably going to get tea, but she didn’t really know it that would happen. She knew that she felt safer when he was around, happier when he was teasing her, and she was less embarrassed when she did ramble. She thought that Oliver might feel something like that, but he hadn’t exactly declared her feelings to her after they talked about his father.

He had thanked her for her promise and for her help, and asked what she planned to do next. She had told him the truth, which was that she needed to call her grandparents and let them know what had happened. She told him that he was welcome to join her for the call, but he told her that he needed to get to Verdant for a meeting with his sister and best friend who ran the club. Oliver did walk her back to her room, and she thought that maybe he wanted to kiss her when he left her at the door.

Baba kept talking when Felicity didn’t say anything. “Now if Queen wasn’t around I would suggest Cash as a potential grandson-in-law.”

“Jonny Cash seems sort of odd Baba.”

“The poor child had had a hard time of it, but he has a good heart. I wanted him to be one of your dance partners, but he refused.”

Cash was scary before, knowing that he refused her Baba and lived to tell the tale made him even more intimidating.

Deda huffed at Baba’s description of Cash and added his own observations. “Cash is as cold blooded as they come Teacup, and he lacks emotional intelligence, but he’s reasonable. Maksim’s problem is that his ego gets in the way of his common sense.”

“You do realize that you are talking about the same person, right? Jonny Cash, numerous tattoos, black wavy hair in a man bun, rabid blusher, bad people skills. Maksim said the Jonny doesn’t want to be captain. What did he mean?”

Deda answered before Baba, “Maksim’s ego getting in the way of his common sense again. Cash refuses to get involved in certain aspects of Bratva business and Maksim thinks that means Cash lacks the appropriate interest in advancing.”

“What your Deda is trying to say is that Maksim thinks that Cash doesn’t have the balls for it. I think the boy would just rather spend time with his computers and ignoring that 98% of the world is not as smart as he is. A captain needs a certain amount of people skills that Cash lacks.”

“Wait, Cash is Maksim’s tech expert? I thought he dealt with Gagarin’s money.” She had always Maksim’s IT person was good because unlike most of the Bratva Maksim actually knew how to use a firewall. She hadn’t realized that Cash oversaw that part of Gagarin’s operation though.

Deda answered, “Cash isn’t that interested in cybersecurity but my understanding is that he can hold his own. He is more interested in high-frequency trading.”

“Maksim is still laundering money for Anatoly?” Felicity asked.

She knew that the Bratva made an astounding amount of money in Russia, however none of its captains kept their cash in rubles. Most of their profits ended up in dollars and in bank accounts in countries with more stable economies.

Deda answered again. “As a far as I know. He also provides a place for Anatoly’s clients to store their money outside of Mother Russia’s notice. Cash oversees that too.”

Felicity thought about it for a moment. She understood the principles behind high-frequency trading—letting a computer algorithm buy and sell a stock faster than a human could comprehend for a profit that was a fraction of a cent. Repeat that enough times and there was incredible money to be made. Banks and hedge funds that made their money making those trades had tried to recruit her—not to write those algorithms but because a piece of rogue code in their systems could wreck havoc and cost millions if not billions of dollars. She would have been very good at keeping their systems secure, but they were also generally dicks.

“He must use the high-frequency trading to hide moving that much cash.” Felicity was thinking aloud and didn’t listen to what her grandmother said in response.

As her friend Dan liked to explain when trying to make economics sound fun or impress a cute bartender, money laundering was inherently complicated. If it was simple than the government would figure it out and stop it. He loved to talk about this one Harvard economics professor went to prison for laundering over thirty million dollars of drug money from Colombia. The amount of cash alone was impressive, but he did also managed to switch it from pesos to dollars while avoiding Colombia’s taxes on currency exchange, which according to Dan was also a pretty cool trick.

“Your Baba is right. The Bratva’s power has always been tied to our ability to move wealth and assets without the government’s notice. Cash is just particularly good at doing it in new ways.”

Felicity recognized the tone of her grandfather’s voice. It was the same proud tone that he used when he talked about her accomplishments.

“I guess I never realized that Gagarin was basically running his own hedge fund for criminals.”

Felicity kept tabs on the parts of the Bratva that Deda brought to her attention, but that meant mining their internet histories and phone logs for material that would provide Deda with leverage. If Deda was concerned that rival in the Mafia or Triad knew too much about the Bratva’s business or the FBI might happen on to actual evidence he would ask her to investigate. She understood some of what he actually did, and knew that Deda’s own wealth and position in the Bratva had been cemented by his ability to get anything in or out of the Soviet Union decades ago, but honestly the economics of the Bratva had never been something she had put a lot of thought into before.

“How Gagarin makes his money isn’t important at the moment, Teacup.” Baba continued, “We need to deal with the fact that he tried to buy you from Queen.”

“It sounds so bad when you put it that way. I think that Maksim went all in and knows he lost to the house.”

“Maksim’s sore loser,” Baba paused before continuing. “He is going to find someway to make Queen pay for choosing you.”

Felicity agreed. “You’re right, but I don’t think that Maksim will try kidnap me or anything like that. It would be a sweeter victory if I chose him instead of Oliver.”

Not that she would ever agree to Maksim’s plan to marry his son, but she knew that Gagarin could be incredible charming and persuasive when he wanted to be. As for retribution, she personally thought that Maksim had already been punished enough for his stupid plan.

“Hold on one sec. Someone is at the door.” Felicity walked over to the door and opened it to find Leysa on the other side with a tea tray. “Come in Leysa. I am talking to my grandparents.” Felicity waved the hand holding her cell phone to emphasize her point.

“Thank you, miss. Raisa thought you might like some tea.”

“Tea is great. Thanks.” Leysa put the tray down and was almost out the door when Felicity remembered that she had the copy of Harry Potter for Leysa. “Wait Leysa, I have the book that we talked about.”

It didn’t take Felicity long to find the book in her suitcase. She handed it to the other woman who hesitated to take it. Felicity felt like she had to throw it before Leysa would touch it.

“Oh, miss I can’t take this!”

“Of course you can. If you are really bothered just give it back to me when you are done reading it.”

“But, miss, I can’t read it.” Leysa must have seen Felicity’s confusion, because she continued before Felicity could ask her to explain. “I don’t know how to read English.

“Seriously? But you speak it so well, and you can read Russian and French, right?”

Leysa’s eyes were cast on the floor, “I can read some Russian and French, but reading is different. I am good at speaking. What is it that Americans say? I have a good ear.”

“I’m sorry Leysa. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I am sure that I can find a copy in Ukrainian or Russian for you. If I can’t we’ll just watch the movie. It has all the best parts anyway.”

Leysa opened her mouth, and Felicity just knew that the maid was going to tell her not to go to any trouble so she spoke before Leysa could. “Its not a bother. I want to do this.”

“Thank you, miss. Is there anything else you need?”

“No thank you Leysa.”

Felicity waited for Leysa to close the door before she said anything to her grandparents. “That was one of Oliver’s maids. It is weird that he has maids. Anyway she had never heard of Harry Potter. How is that possible?”

Felicity really did wonder how that was possible. There were millions and millions and millions of copies of the books in print and the movies were on TV constantly. It was kind of weird that Leysa didn’t seem to have any familiarity with the stories.

“Teacup, not everyone had the same childhood as you.”

“I get that Deda, but its Harry Potter.”

“What your grandfather meant to say, is would you like us to send you a copy of the books in Ukrainian? Leysa is Ukrainian?”

“Yes! That would be awesome Baba. I am sure Leysa would appreciate it.”

“Your grandmother will send you the books. I am going to call Queen and have a talk with him about Gagarin and his security.”

Felicity groaned because Deda sounded like he was going to give Oliver a hard time. “Don’t be too hard on Oliver, Deda. This hasn’t been easy for him.”

“Leo, listen to Felicity. Be nice to the boy. He is going to give us grandbabies.”

“Ugh, I am ignoring that you said that. Hugs and love!”

Her grandparents told her that they loved her too before they hung up.

Felicity thought about it while she poured herself some tea, and decided that it was the right thing to do, so she text Oliver to let him know that her grandfather would be calling to discuss Oliver’s security. He texted back immediately to let her know that he could handle Leo and that she was safe with him.

She texted back, “ _I know I am safe with you._ ”


	8. Chapter 8

Felicity immediately reached for her phone when it pinged with an incoming text message. She welcomed the distraction from all the IT tickets that had come in over the weekend.

 _Monday, Monday so good to me. I have a meeting in your neighborhood. Coffee @ 10:30? I’ll tell you about my success as a mountain man. You can tell me about your boring weekend without me_.

 _Yes to coffee. Don’t you mean your new status as a bear?”_ Felicity’s response was immediate.  She had missed Daniel and wanted to talk to him, even if she wasn’t planning on telling him everything that had happened while he was without cell service.

 _Dude, my manscaping is WAY better than a bear’s_.

 _TMI. Also you can’t make me laugh. My abs HATE me_.  Felicity actually knew that Daniel spent about the same amount of money on his appearance than she did on shoes. He was more fastidious about his personal grooming than even her mother or his mother for that matter.

_Did you exercise? Without me??? I’ll bring the coffee and carbs. Front steps of your building?_

Her Monday would seriously improve with a few minutes in the sun, catty gossip, carbs, and caffeine. _10:30. Be there or be square_.

 _It’s on, like Donkey Kong_.

Felicity looked up from her phone to study Sara who was napping on the couch in her office. Felicity hated the drab tan color and the way that the thing made it nearly impossible to walk to her bookcase filled with old manuals, but it was here when she got promoted. She had never gotten around to asking facilities to move it, and it had sort of grown on her. What it lacked in appearance it made up for in comfort. Felicity hadn’t really expected that Sara would adopt it has her new nest when she followed Felicity into the office that morning. Yet in a matter of minutes Sara had smushed the cushions to her satisfaction and closed her eyes.

“Night Owl, you can stop pretending you are asleep.”

Felicity hadn’t asked where Sara went last night when she came in and told Felicity that Roy would be around if she needed anything. After a day that started with Felicity letting Sara and Digg come up with creative ways to torture her while not using her ankle, and then a Die Hard marathon with Sara, the only thing that Felicity wanted from Roy was peace and quiet so she could sleep.

“I was asleep.” It appeared that Sara had not outgrown the ability to sound like a grumpy, annoyed teenager. Felicity figured the tone was just because it was a Monday morning. Sara hadn’t looked tired when she met Felicity in the kitchen this morning. She had looked relaxed, and almost carefree. 

“You were asleep for an hour. Now you are pretending to nap.” Sara opened her eyes and studied the other blonde. Sara wasn’t perplexed, but Felicity could see unanswered questions in her eyes. “I may not be a super scary badass, but I do have some observational skills.”

The questions in Sara’s eyes only deepened into something that was akin to disbelief. Felicity wasn’t sure why she disagreed with Felicity’s self-professed observational skills.

“If you say so. Destroy a hacking ring with a few strokes of your keyboard? Need me to arrange a fast escape? An alibi?”

It said a lot about Sara that she immediately assumed that Felicity needed her help to set up an alibi. Sara clearly thought that Felicity’s job was much more exciting than it really was.

“Nothing like that. I am going to get coffee with a friend. We are going to sit in the park across the street. Do you have to come with me?”

The end must have sounded plaintive because Sara laughed. “What you really want is for me to help you shake your security. Meeting your secret lover?”

Felicity snorted at that idea. “You can come if you want. Daniel and I will be talking about how hard it is to sleep on an air mattress and drink PBR.” It was a sincere offer, but Felicity had been looking forward to pretending her life was normal for a moment. Having a deadly, though amusing, leather-clad shadow was not part of her normal coffee date routine.

Sara used her own observational skills before she spoke, “Just because you are stuck with me doesn’t mean you have to give up your privacy. I can totally keep an eye on you without being your new BFF.”

Felicity smiled gratefully. She appreciated that Sara understood Felicity’s need for twenty normal minutes without her actually having to explain it. Sara briefly told Felicity how her security would work, and made sure to tell her that it was really only possible because Queen Security kept an eye on the park too.

Felicity grabbed her sweater and headed out to meet Daniel a few minutes before 10:30. Sara followed her discreetly, and faded into the background as soon as they were out of the building. Felicity could still sense Sara’s presence, but she felt free for the first time in days when she sat down on the bench she and Daniel liked.

Daniel appeared promptly at 10:30 carrying two large to-go coffee cups and a brown-paper bag with promising looking grease stains.

“Are those Joey’s breakfast sandwiches?” When Daniel nodded Felicity continued talking, “What did I do deserve such a treat?”

Joey’s was twelve blocks from her office and even midmorning on a Monday would be packed. Daniel sat down and handed her coffee before he spoke.

“You didn’t have my father killed after his stunt on Saturday. The sandwich is a thank your from my mother.”

Well, shit. This wasn’t going to be twenty minutes of normal gossip and coffee.

“Oh.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Daniel didn’t sound hurt. He sounded resigned to Felicity’s reticence. Unlike Felicity, he had grown up in the Bratva, and as Maksim Gagarin’s only child, Daniel knew that secrets were kept even from the people that you loved.

“Probably not. At least not today. I kind of need some normal.” Felicity hoped that Daniel heard the sincerity in her voice and the need for an old friend right now.

Daniel nodded and slung his arm around her. “I only do normal with flair.”

Felicity laughed since Daniel was dressed in an exquisite three piece navy blue suit, a pale pink gingham shirt that she knew was monogramed, and a deep rose tie with thin white stripes that matched his pocket square. The outfit was loud, but in a subtly wealthy way that appealed to Daniel’s banking clients. She pointed to his socks which had strawberries on them and rolled her eyes.

“You like them? They were an anniversary present from Josh.”

“Did you mother see them when she dropped off the sandwiches?”

When she mentioned the sandwiches, Daniel dug into the bag and handed her one as well as a bottle of her favorite hot sauce. Susie was really out doing herself here.

“No, she sent her driver to pick them up, which is probably good because my mother does not understand my sartorial choices.”

That was Susie in a nutshell. Smart enough to know Felicity’s favorite food and that she could be bribed with it, and lazy enough to outsource the work.

“But, you already know my mother’s feelings about socks. So you and Ollie Queen.”

Felicity grimaced at Daniel’s tone, which implied far more than she wanted it to about her relationship with Oliver.

“Unless your father can convince me that you would make a better consort.”

It was Daniel’s turn to grimace. Felicity had been telling Maksim Gagarin the truth when she told him that Daniel would not want to marry her. What she hadn’t told Maksim was that she was also sure that Daniel would agree to it if she asked.

“Maksim still thinks that I will outgrow this stage of liking boys.”

Daniel never referred to Maksim as his father when discussing Maksim’s refusal to fully accept his son’s sexuality. Felicity never commented on the verbal tick and figured it was better handled by Dan’s very good therapist.

Felicity spoke without thinking, “I think he assumed that I wouldn’t care if you had a piece on the side.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew that she had stepped one of the landmines in Daniel’s family.

“Well, he knows all about that.”

“Her tennis coach still?”

“No, she has moved on to the sommelier at Nicholas’s.”

“Brady is hot.” Daniel’s narrowed eyes and tight mouth made Felicity quickly add, “But he knows nothing about wine.” It was a weak reassurance, but all that Felicity could really offer. They both knew that if it wasn’t the sommelier it would just be someone else.

Daniel shrugged. He tried to act like it didn’t matter to him, but she knew that it offended his deep sense of loyalty that his mother had stopped being faithful to his father almost thirty years ago.

“Dad will never leave her.” Daniel took after his mother when it came to his blonde coloring, height, and old money manners, but his killer business instinct and loyalty were all from the Gagarin side of the family. “Back to the topic at hand. My mother’s version of the story was skinny with facts and fat with drama. What exactly is going on?”

Felicity was surprised by how little time it took to recap the last few days of her life. It felt like it should take at least hours to tell Daniel about everything since Felicity knew these events would be a turning point in her life. She left out a few things like the fact that she genuinely liked Oliver, and that Oliver was trying to find the person who murdered his father.

Daniel for his part didn’t speak until she was done talking. He just ate his own sandwich and listened to her.

“How is Leo?”

“Ornery. He says he isn’t in pain, but according to his medical records the cancer has metastasized from his lungs to his liver.”

“That sounds bad. He is letting you talk to his doctors?” Daniel had dealt with Leo’s overprotectiveness before and knew that Felicity’s grandfather tended to be private if he thought the information would hurt the people that he loved. 

“No, I hacked their system.” 

Daniel laughed and left it at that. She had a slew of questions for Deda about the cancer, but they had taken a backseat to everything else for the time being. Daniel played with his coffee lid until he worked up the courage to speak.

“Dad’s an ass, but he is right. His offer was good, and other captains will be worse. Are you sure you want to throw your hat in with Queen? If you don’t, I will marry you.”

Daniel couldn’t meet her eyes when he spoke and she understood just how much the offer was costing him for all that it was made with utter sincerity.

“As proposals go that was thoroughly unromantic. I really hope that my future husband doesn’t sound like he wants to cry when he proposes.”

Daniel signed, “I love you Felicity, and we both know that it would work.”

“Would it? Work I mean. Maksim thinks that you would let me run the Bratva, but that would kill you. Married to a woman, and having to play the housewife? Daniel, it would destroy you, and you would destroy me.”

Daniel put on a good show that he had no interest in his birthright as a Gagarin. He acted like the Bratva was a club that wasn’t cool enough for him, but Felicity knew that all Daniel wanted was to take over his father’s position.

Daniel went to Yale at eighteen when his father told him that no faggot son of his would ever inherit anything more than Maksim’s name. Susie relished Daniel’s success in the classroom and on the tennis court, but Maksim said that anyone could get good grades and hit a ball. According to Maksim only a real man could build an empire. So that was what Daniel was doing. Building an empire to spite his father and to prove to the Bratva that he was strong enough to be a leader.

“We could be partners.”

“Daniel, you would always hate me for being the reason that you were allowed at the table at all.” The other thing that Daniel had inherited from his father was Maksim’s pride, and Felicity knew that it led both to make dangerous decisions.

“You’re right. And, I couldn’t do that to Josh or to you.” Daniel gave her a quick squeeze, and relaxed against the bench. Now that they had settled that he seemed much more comfortable. “So what are you going to do? Marry Ollie and hope that his name and money convinces the Bratva that you are off limits?”

“I don’t know.”

 Daniel raised his eyebrows at her. She knew their non-verbal shorthand, and it was clear Daniel didn’t believe her.

“Really…Seriously, I have no idea. Well, other than I am sure that I will not be marrying Oliver Queen.”

“At least bang him. For sixteen-year-old me.”

Daniel’s comment was timed perfectly to coincide with Felicity taking a sip of her coffee. She laughed, then hiccupped, gulped for air and started coughing. Daniel kindly patted her back until she caught her breath.

“Thanks for sixteen year-old Daniel’s advice. Did you know that Oliver was Bratva?”

“No. Dad never mentioned the other Starling captain by name and mom doesn’t talk about my father’s work.”

Daniel did a credible impression of the strained and judgmental tone his mother always used when alluding to the Bratva. Susie hadn’t known the dark and handsome man that courted her with love letters and expensive jewels made his money by illegal methods. She had been the oldest daughter of very successful Starling City attorney and she was as experienced as a naïve debutante could be when Maksim Gagarin met her. When she learned what he did, and how cruel and brutal the Bratva could be they were already married. She had never forgiven Maksim for it, and she tried to raise her son to be a part of her world and not her husband’s.

Daniel continued, “Ollie went to Chatsworth with me, at least until he got kicked out junior year. And we use to hit balls sometimes at the club.”

Felicity wanted to ask what teenager Oliver was like, but she also didn’t want Daniel to think that she was interested in Oliver beyond his Bratva role. She must not have done a good job of keeping her curiosity out of her face because Daniel sighed and continued talking.

“Ollie wasn’t a bad guy. He wouldn’t let the other guys give me a hard time about being gay. But, mostly he was just entitled, spoiled, and lazy. He could have been the number one single’s player at Chatsworth. The few times he really showed up on the court our matches were epic, but he lacked the discipline to do anything with his talent.”

Daniel sounded resigned about it now, but Felicity imagined that Oliver’s behavior galled the hell out of Daniel when he was a teenager. One of the things that Felicity had always liked the most about Daniel was that his privilege had never taken the place of a real work ethic.

“And, Ollie was hot as sin even with his atrocious rat’s nest of hair. He and Tommy were in a lot of my—

“I get the idea. “

Daniel grinned at Felicity, “Have you met Tommy because otherwise I don’t think that you really do.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at Daniel, but she appreciated that this conversation was actually starting to sound normal.

“Seriously though, Felicity this whole situation is no joke. If you want to disappear, you have the skills to do it and I would understand.”

Felicity had spent some long minutes thinking about just that yesterday while she watched Bruce Willis blow up a lot of stuff. Her mother hadn’t been able to disappear. Donna didn’t have the skills for that, but she was smart enough and had enough gumption to find a way to make herself safe.  Sometimes Felicity thought a part of her mother died when Donna renounced her family and the Bratva. Felicity’s never said it, and she wondered it only because of little things that Baba has said, and those few moments in Felicity’s childhood when Donna’s iron-strong backbone shined through her makeup, but Donna gave up some part of herself, of her soul, to get away from the Bratva.

Felicity didn’t know what she was going to do, but she knew that she wasn’t going to run away and lose another part of her soul. The last few days had made her realize she walled off a part of herself after Cooper and she was only just now reclaiming that lost courage and strength.

“The only thing I know is that I am not running away. Not from the Bratva, not from my family, and not from Oliver.”

It was her choice to make, and it was the right one. Daniel nodded at her words, and let it go that there might be some reason other than the Bratva that she would run away from Oliver.

“You know that you have my unerring love, loyalty, and support.” Felicity teared up at Daniel’s words. It wasn’t a formal oath, but the words carried a promise that as more than friendship and they both knew it. Daniel was a son of the Bratva and he did not pledge his loyalty lightly. “We should talk about how you are going to handle my father and the other captains. Cash might help too.”

Felicity squeezed his hand at the offer. Daniel had been raised to take over Maksim’s position until he told his dad that he was dating a boy named Elliot. Even though Maksim had told his son that he would never succeed him unless he married a woman, Maksim had kept talking to Daniel about Bratva business. Felicity wasn’t sure if Maksim did it out of habit, or the fact that Daniel was brilliant on his worst days. Either way it meant that Daniel had a much more complete understanding of the dynamics between the other captains than Felicity or Oliver did.

“Thank you.” The words felt inadequate, but Felicity needed to say them.

“Of course. I wonder if this was Baba’s plan when she called me up and told me I had to take dance lesson’s with her teacup.”

“Last week I would have said no, now I am not so sure. Did you know she tried to get Cash to dance with me? He said no. To Baba.”

“Really? He never told me.” Daniel sounded genuinely surprised, though Felicity wasn’t sure if it was at the revelation that someone said no to Sophie or that Cash never told Daniel about it.

 “Speaking of Cash. What’s his story? He was…odd on Saturday.” As she spoke, Felicity checked the time on her phone and saw that she needed to get back to her office. Daniel looked at his own watch too and stood up.

“I’ll walk you back to your office. Cash is odd.” Daniel shrugged as they stopped at a trash can to throw away their empty cups and sandwich wrappers. “You get used to it. His story is his to tell.”

It was a gentle rebuke, but Felicity knew Daniel would not violate Cash’s privacy and while she was curious she trusted that his story was irrelevant to her current situation. If it mattered Daniel would tell her to ask Cash or Deda.

“And he is totally loyal to your father?”

She asked the question without thinking about it. The general belief in the Bratva was that Cash was Maskim’s dog, but something about Cash’s behavior on Saturday made Felicity think that Cash’s loyalty was more complicated.

Daniel took a moment before he spoke and then Felicity could tell he was choosing his words with deliberate care.

“Cash is loyal to my father because my father is willing to respect Cash’s inalienable values. Maksim’s rare moral absolutes align with Cash’s and that’s enough to ensure Cash’s loyalty.”

Felicity waited to see if Daniel would add more to that statement. Daniel wasn’t usually so unspecific when answering a direct question. When Daniel didn’t add anything to his vague explanation Felicity made a mental note to revisit what she knew about Cash.

Maksim had very few moral absolutes and the only one that Felicity thought might make sense in this context was Maksim’s deep abiding refusal to ignore or implicitly condone domestic violence and child abuse. Felicity first heard Maksim’s name when he killed another captain’s enforcer because the enforcer put his wife in a coma after trying to strangle her. The whole situation almost caused a small war, and it took all of Leo’s skills to mediate the conflict and he had missed most of Felicity’s visit for Rosh Hashanah. Felicity knew at the time that Maksim’s actions had been rash but she admired his values, if not what he did.

Leo had been annoyed at Maksim, but it had been Baba who had been furious. She seethed at Felicity to remember that there was nothing more dangerous than a powerful man who believed his righteous morals absolved his stupid decisions.

Since Daniel wasn’t going to say more Felicity changed the subject while they waited for the red light to change so they could cross the street.

“Did you really have a meeting downtown this morning or did Susie pressure you to see me?” Given the nature of their conversation and the thank-you sandwiches it wasn’t an out of place question and Felicity was curious.

“I really had a meeting. Two birds, one stone.”

“Oh, how’d it go?”

“Frustrating as all hell. Seeing you was definitely the more successful use of the stone.” The light changed and Daniel kept talking as they crossed. “I was meeting with Frank Bertinelli. You know that he owns most of the land around the new stadium?” She nodded. The Rockects’ new stadium plans had finally been approved and the whole city was talking about how it would revitalize the Glades.

“He wants to build a convention center, a hotel, and several high-rise mixed-use buildings.” Daniel said and continued, “He has the ability to get all those permits approved quickly.”  Felicity laughed at Daniel’s euphemistic description of Bertinelli’s ability to bribe and intimidate the right people. Daniel met her laugh with his own smile. They both understood what was going on.

Daniel guided her across QC’s plaza, “Anyway, he stands to be the first investor to benefit from the stadium’s new location. He also thinks that he can get the city to retrofit and reopen the subway line back into the Glades.”

Felicity had not heard about that. The subway, or lack there of, had been the thing holding up the stadium’s plan. The team wanted public transportation and the city had no complaint but it didn’t want to pay for it, not in the Glades.

“Are you going to invest?” she asked. “He must need money, and the developments would be a hell of capital investment.” While Bertinelli knew how to grease wheels and get things done in Starling, he was not known to have the same assets as Maksim did. If he was going to actually complete the proposed buildings, he would need investors.”

“I wish, but I can’t convince my boss to invest more than five percent of the overall costs. He is too scared of Bertinelli’s reputation.” Daniel sounded more than annoyed. He sounded ready to destroy every obstacle in his path. “Dad, and the funds that he oversees for the Bratva would be the perfect investor, but he won’t even talk to me about it, and Cash can’t convince him that it’s a good idea.”

There wasn’t really anything that Felicity could say to that. Daniel could ignore Maksim being a bigot, but he would never forgive his father for ruining a business deal.

They were at the front doors the QC Tower, and Felicity remembered that there was one more thing she wanted to say to Daniel. “Thank your mother for sandwiches, please. And remind Susie that I am not my grandfather. I don’t have the power to have Maksim killed for his behavior so she can calm down.”

Daniel sighed, “I’ll let her know.”

But, they both knew that there was no amount of reassurance that would calm Susie’s anxiety about losing her husband. She had spent almost three decades punishing him for her fear.

Felicity thought he was going to say more about Susie’s incorrect assumption, but he switched topics. “As for Cash, I forgot to add, I am sure some of his odd behavior is because of his massive crush on you.”

“Wait! What?”

“Look at the time, there is my car. I have to run!” Daniel leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on her check. “Toodles!”

“Daniel Stark Gagarin!” Daniel was already at his car, his door opened by the driver and waiting. “You can’t end on that note!”

Daniel ignored her outrage, “Wine Wednesday?”

“Yes. And you are buying.” It was the least that he owed her after that little bomb. Daniel grinned and waved his assent before disappearing into the town car.

Felicity walked into the building trying to decide if she should laugh at the whole situation or cry. It had not been the diverting twenty minutes that she was expecting, though she had plenty to think about now.

She waved her badge at the security guard and told him that she had had a nice weekend when he asked. Sara was close behind her and they walked across the lobby towards the elevators when Digg intercepted them. His face was impassive and his voice curt when he spoke.

“Oliver would like a word Felicity. In his office.”

“Can it wait until my lunch? I already took a longer break than I am supposed to.”

Her supervisor didn’t really care when she came and went so long as her work got done, but she would prefer not to go to Oliver’s office. There was no good reason for her to be there, which meant of course everyone would come up with sordid explanations for her being seen with the boss.

“Now. He reported some computer issue, and requested you personally.”

Felicity huffed at the flimsy excuse for her to visit him, and his unquestioning belief that she would appear when he ordered her to do so.

“If Ollie is in a mood it is better to just deal with him. His anger does not improve with age.” Sara spoke with a knowing tone and Felicity nodded and walked to the elevator.

“What floor is his office on again?”

When the elevator arrived and deposited them on floor with the executive leaderships’ offices Felicity was startled to remember the way to Oliver’s office. Thursday had been the first, and only time, she had been there before. Felicity marched down the hallway with Digg and Sara close behind. When she turned the last corner before his office she stopped abruptly.

In his office Oliver stood like a sentinel watching the city below him, with his back to her and the rest of QC. His shoulders were a rigid, stubborn line, and his hands were clasped tightly at the small of his back. Walls of glass and the large reception area cut her off from Oliver, but she could feel the anger emanating off of him.

As soon as she realized Oliver was upset, Felicity rushed past his assistant who tried to stop her. Felicity barely registered Digg telling the assistant to let Felicity go. As soon as she swung the office door open, Oliver turned and looked at her.

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

 

Oliver spoke—no shouted—before she could say anything. Digg and Sara entered the office on the tail end of his exclamation and both took a step back. Felicity held her ground.

She was going to tell him she had no idea what he was talking about when he turned to Sara.

“And what were you thinking leaving her alone in the park with Maksim Gagarin’s son?” He didn’t shout at Sara. Shouting would’ve been better than the ice-cold judgmental words he threw at her.

He turned back to Felicity, “Rethink Maksim’s offer? Decide you would rather marry Daniel?”

Felicity flinched at his cruel tone. She understood his concerns about her safety, but this jealous reaction was unnecessary. Her eyes strayed over to his computer where he still had the security footage of her date with Daniel up including the kiss he gave her as he was leaving. She did look very comfortable with Daniel, and she could understand after everything that happened on Saturday that Oliver might misconstrue her relationship with the younger Gagarin. She hadn’t said anything then that would have let Oliver know that Daniel was one of her closest friends and that had nothing to do with his relationship to Maksim or the Bratva.

Felicity walked over to Oliver though Sara and Digg stayed at the edge of the office. “First, Daniel is my friend regardless of his father. Second, he is gay, which you know.”

It was becoming clear that Oliver acted without thinking, especially when it involved people that he felt responsible for protecting. If he was just rational he would realize that she was not reneging on their partnership and choosing Maksim. Oliver took a deep breath when she laid her hand on his shoulder.

“I haven’t spoken to Daniel in ten years.”

Oliver sounded calmer, less like a territorial bear about to tear each limb off an interloper before gutting him and spreading his entrails across the land, and more like bear that was considering if he should use his teeth or his claws to neatly kill the interloper. Felicity figured it was good that he was calmer, even if he still looked ready to kill something.

Felicity made sure to meet his eyes before she spoke, “He hasn’t changed that much. Killer tennis player, flamboyant dresser, rampant gossip, and totally into dudes.”

Oliver finally seemed to be processing what Felicity was saying.

“Daniel Gagarin is still Maksim’s son. He could be part of his father—

“Oliver, Daniel is many things, but he is not stupid. He would not participate in some scheme of his father’s, especially one that endangers me. He bought me coffee and a greasy biscuit sandwich to apologize for Maksim’s behavior on Saturday.”

“You deserve more than coffee and Joey’s as an apology for Maksim’s behavior.” Oliver sounded offended that Daniel didn’t get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but his shoulders were beginning to relax and corner of eyes mellowed.

“Maksim’s behavior also wasn’t Daniel’s fault, and he certain does not have to apologize for someone else’s actions, even if that person is his father.” She suspected if Oliver thought about it all he would realize that he and Daniel shared similar daddy issues. She continued speaking to him in a kind but firm voice, “Unlike you yelling at Sara and jumping to conclusions that she put me in danger. I was perfectly safe the whole time. Sara was there and QC security was watching.” Felicity gestured at the security footage to make her point. “You owe her an apology.”

Felicity wasn’t sure Oliver understood what she had said. His lips froze slightly open, and he looked back at Felicity instead of at Sara.

“Its fine. No harm, no foul.” Sara’s cavalier attitude was clearly a front, but it was a good act and one that Felicity might have believed if she hadn’t seen the real hurt in Sara’s eyes when Oliver yelled at her.

“Its not fine Sara. Oliver was wrong to say those things to you, which I am sure he knows.” Felicity’s tone at the end sounded faintly like Baba. Oliver might not have known that he was acting badly when he said those things but he clearly knew now. Oliver gave her a hint of a smile before he turned to Sara.

“Felicity is right. I did behave badly and I shouldn’t have said those things. I trust you and know that you are very good at your job.”

It was a sufficient apology to satisfy Felicity, though she would have preferred that he actually use the words “sorry” and “I apologize.” Sara seemed okay with it, if her slacked jawed weak nod could be considered acceptance.

“Now that we have taken care of that, I am going to pretend to fix your computer for fifteen minutes. I am sure I can find some porn to make it look like you got a nasty bug.” Felicity walked over to Oliver’s work station and sat down. She looked up to realize that Oliver, Digg, and Sara were all looking at her. “What? My boss will totally believe that Oliver would download porn. Digg and Sara, you guys don’t have to wait around for me.”

Felicity turned back to the computer, but she could hear Digg laughing quietly and saw him exit out the corner of her eye.

“I’m going to hang out with Kathy until you are done Felicity.” Sara said as she also left and went to sit in one of the chairs in the lobby near Oliver’s assistant.

As long as she was here there was no reason for Felicity not to actually get some work done so she started to update Oliver’s computer and run some routine checks for malware. She looked up from the screen that she was focusing on to realize that Oliver was leaning up against his desk right next to her.

“I owe you an apology too. All I heard was Digg telling me that that you were outside with Gagarin and I lost control. If he was going to hurt you there was nothing that I could do from here.” Oliver picked at an invisible lose thread on his cuff, instead of meeting her eyes. “I should have trusted you to know what you were doing and Sara to keep you safe.”

As apologies went this one was excellent.

“Thank you for the apology.” Felicity swallowed before she continued, “This isn’t going to be easy for either of us Oliver. Honestly, I didn’t think about Daniel being Maksim’s son.” It is not like she forgot about the connection, but it hadn’t occurred to her that her changed circumstances might change her relationship with Daniel too. “I promise that I will try not to put myself in dangerous situations, but you have to trust me when I do something without telling you.”

Oliver paused before he nodded. Felicity was sure that he wanted a promise that she would absolutely never put herself in danger, but they both knew she couldn’t make that promise.

“Oh, look it! Porn!” Oliver eyes widened. “Don’t worry I had to add it, but now my boss will believe your complaint.”

Oliver clearly decided it was wiser not to comment on his IT department’s belief that everyone has porn on their computer and moved on. “I was going to come down and see you actually, that’s when Digg told me that you were getting coffee with Daniel.” Oliver paused, and Felicity would have sworn that he was giving himself a mental pep talk. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Tonight? Raisa is making lasagna so sure…That’s not what you meant is it?”

Oliver laughed as Felicity squeaked at the end and buried her face in her hands. “Well I would love to eat lasagna with you tonight, but no that’s not what I meant. Would you—

Oliver abruptly stopped talking and stood straight up. He was staring through the glass walls of his office. “I am going to apologize in advance for what is about to happen.”

Felicity followed Oliver’s gaze and saw a handsome man with dark hair, a neat widow’s peak, and mischievous brown eyes walking through the lobby. He was Oliver’s age and waved to Kathy with familiarity and fist-bumped with Sara before walking into Oliver’s office uninvited.

“Oh, that’s Tommy!” Felicity recognized his friendly smirk from the photo on the mantle, and she was beginning to understand why Daniel had fantasied about Oliver and Tommy in highschool.

“I see that my reputation precedes me. Don’t believe anything Ollie says about me. Unless he says that I am devilishly handsome and charming, then believe him.”

Felicity had to grin at Tommy. He was charismatic and it was impossible to ignore the light mood that swept into the office with him.

“And you must be the lovely Felicity. Oliver, you are supposed to brag to me about your beautiful and smart new girlfriend.” Tommy actually winked at Felicity and managed to make it seem both normal and conspiratorial as he laid into Oliver.

Oliver sighed at Tommy’s antics, “Lance sell me out?”

“Yes over brunch yesterday. Brunch: a lovely meal, but so plebeian.” Tommy added to Felicity before return his attention to Oliver. “The good lieutenant seemed to thoroughly relish telling Laurel and I about your new ladylove.”

Tommy’s tone implied something that Felicity was missing, but Oliver’s scrunched eyebrows and deep inhale suggested that he heard whatever Tommy was not saying.

“Lance made me sound like a jackass to Laurel?”

“I would have said oafish, but jackass will do. Its not like I could defend you buddy since I had no idea about you and the accomplished Ms. Smoak.” Tommy settled in to the place on Oliver’s desk that Oliver vacated when Tommy entered and leaned down to Felicity, “Were you really third in your class at MIT?”

Felicity nodded since she was slightly taken aback that Tommy had been able to find that out about her. Tommy clapped his hands together and continued, “Third is impressive, but still human. If you were first or second I would never believe that you would lower yourself to date Ollie.”

“Tommy what are you doing here?” Oliver sounded exasperated with his friend’s antics, but also fond of Tommy and his colorful ways.

“Nominally, I need your signature on some contracts for Verdant, but mostly I came to snoop.” Tommy shrugged. “Snooping is my right when you make me look like an idiot in front of Laurel.  I assumed I was going to have to poke around downstairs to find your Felicity, but since you are both here that will save me the effort.”

Oliver grimaced slightly and with a bit more effort than necessary lifted Tommy from his perch. “Leave Felicity alone.”

Tommy took a seat in one of the chairs across from Oliver’s desk and crossed his heels on the desk. “Now where is the fun in that? So Felicity what attracted you to Oliver? His questionable manners, unfriendly nature, or his grumpy attitude?”

She couldn’t help but laugh since it was clear to all of them that Tommy was teasing Oliver.

“You seem far too smart and sweet to get involved with that loser.” Tommy pointed at Oliver. “He doesn’t even tell his bestest friend in the whole world when he is dating a new stellar woman.”

“I get the point Tommy. Felicity and I are taking things slow, and quietly.” Oliver stressed the last word and Felicity could see his point. Tommy didn’t seem like quiet was his default setting.

“Yeah, Lance said that too. He seemed to think it was smart of the lady to try and keep her name clear of yours.” Tommy didn’t look at Oliver as he spoke though, he looked at Felicity and while his tone was light and jovial his eyes were filled with piercing judgment.

Oliver kept a straight face, but Felicity was beginning to understand how much these digs at his character must hurt. She wasn’t sure what had caused him to change, but he was not the same shallow, lazy, and undisciplined teenager that Daniel and Lance remembered. Tommy seemed to realize that his best friend was a better man than Oliver was given credit for, and Felicity appreciated his protectiveness. Oliver needed people to defend him since he seemed willing to let his old reputation remain intact.

“Tommy, I know Oliver is a great guy, and I have no problem with the world knowing that we are dating, but he is my boss.”

“Oliver is your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. It’s like dating a third cousin—totally legal. And since you are happy to let the world know, you should do just that on Friday night.” Tommy reached into his interior coat pocket and pulled out a crisp white card with calligraphy on it that he handed to Felicity. “Oliver only RSVP’d for one, but I have some pull with the host.”

Felicity was reading the invitation as he spoke, and saw that Tommy was the host of the party on behalf of Merlyn Global Group and Queen Consolidated.

Tommy kept talking, “It’s a fundraiser for my girlfriend or for the legal nonprofit that she works for. I promise it will be fun, and you can see Oliver and I lose embarrassing sums of money.”

It looked like the party theme was Monte Carlo and there would be gambling and all the money lost would go to the charity.

“Felicity, you don’t have to go with me.” Oliver spoke gently to her, but shot Tommy a look that could best be described as stay out of my business. Tommy expertly ignored it.

Felicity liked Oliver around Tommy. Oliver was annoyed, but he was also looser, happier. Tommy was the first person that Felicity met who treated Oliver like a normal guy and a friend. Even Sara’s teasing was still laced with respect for a superior.

“I know that Oliver, but it looks like lots of fun and you and Tommy can watch me win embarrassing sums of money.”

Tommy laughed, “I like this one Oliver. Don’t screw it up. I’ll leave you both to doing whatever it was that you were doing. I hope it was scandalous.”

Felicity watched Tommy let himself out of Oliver’s office. “I like him.”

“Tommy tends to have that affect on women.”

Felicity laughed, “And men too I’m guessing.”

Oliver laughed too. “Seriously, though I will tell him to back off if you don’t want to go. It’s a very see and be seen type of thing.”

Felicity finished up her work on Oliver’s computer and started to return his workstation the condition that she found it in. “Even more reason that I should go. Lance will question our story even more if I am not there now that Tommy invited me.  I’m done here.”

Felicity stood up and walked around the desk to the other side. Oliver nodded at her statement, and started to walk her to the door.

“And, Oliver? I do want to have dinner with you.”

“Lasagna tonight at 7?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Felicity paused at the door. Oliver had stopped a few steps behind her. His eyes were bright and pleased, but his cheeks were slack with surprise. Felicity giggled at the combination of confidence, self-doubt, and shyness that seemed to take Oliver over whenever his feelings were at play.

She walked back to him, “As Tommy pointed out, I was only third in my class so you are totally in my league.”

Oliver’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly. She wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t standing so close to him. She knew it wasn’t the most responsible idea, not here in his office with glass walls surrounding them, but she couldn’t resist, not when her blood was rushing to her own cheeks to match his, so she rose up on her tippy toes and kissed his cheek.

She wanted to linger. To keep staring into his eyes, to run her thumb along his jaw, to feel the sharp stubble beginning to break through his smooth skin, to kiss his mouth, which promised to be so much more rewarding the peck to his cheek. But, she knew that was a very bad idea.

Felicity willed herself to take a step back. Oliver let her go. At her kiss his hands had come to hover at her hips, ready to pull her closer, but he never touched her. They both knew that this was not the place or time. If he had gripped her hips, and slide one hand around her back and the other one up to cradle her head she wouldn’t have cared about the consequences.

She opened the door and looked back at him one more time.

“Oliver, you have something on your cheek.”

With deliberate reverence Oliver reached his fingers up to touch where she had kissed him and her particularly pink lipstick marked him as hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this took so long. I didn't realize how much work ramping up, travel, and the weather improving and me wanting to spend all my time outside would make me not want to write. I am not sure what my update schedule will l be like for the rest of this story. I have every intention of finishing it, but I also want my posts to be tight chapters and to push the story along. Anyway, I promise that they will be more frequent than they have been. 
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there with me.


	9. Chapter 9

“This really isn’t what I meant when I asked if you would have dinner with me.”

Oliver’s wry tone and chagrined smile conveyed his sincere surprise that he and Felicity were the only ones at the Mansion for dinner on Monday night. Sara had told Felicity that John and Oliver would take her home because Sara had some things to do in the city, and John had excused himself when they arrived at the estate.

“Speedy is usually home on Mondays, and if she is here than Roy is too. Tommy usually comes too.”

Felicity nodded. She still hadn’t met Oliver’s little sister. Raisa had told her that Thea kept an apartment near Verdant, and often stayed there on the weekends when she left the club in the early morning. It was more convenient than driving thirty minutes to the mansion. Felicity did wonder what Thea thought about Oliver inviting an indefinite house guest to stay in the manor. Oliver seemed to think she wouldn’t mind, and everyone else appeared ready to defer to Oliver.

Looking around the empty, immaculate kitchen, Oliver added “We can eat in the breakfast room or the family dining room if you would rather.”

“No, I like it here.” Felicity honestly had no idea how the breakfast room was different than the family dining room and why the Queens needed both. So far she had eaten every meal in the kitchen and had grown comfortable in Raisa’s domain.

“It’s my favorite room in the house.” Oliver said as he went to a cupboard and pulled out the heavy ceramic plates that Raisa seemed to favor. “I always liked eating in here with Raisa and the other servants. Meals with my parents were….more formal. We could use one of the china patterns and silver if you want?”

Oliver didn’t sound enthusiastic about the offer. If Felicity had to guess Raisa probably instilled manners about how to treat guests in the Queen children, and that included using the good china and the antique silver even if Oliver didn’t like the formality.

“No, please. I will just spend the whole meal worrying that I am going to break something. I am surprised that she is allowing us in here unsupervised. Where is the silverware?” Felicity asked, after the she opened the second drawer that she thought held the utensils they needed.

Oliver laughed and pointed her to a drawer next to the one she had just tried. He placed plates on each side of one of the farm table’s corners. “It’s only Sara who is not allowed in here without adult supervision. Though Thea gets in trouble a lot for not doing her dishes.”

He stopped talking as he walked into the pantry. Felicity put the place settings next to plates and added cloth napkins from the basket that Raisa kept on the kitchen island while she waited for him to return. He came out carrying a bottle of red wine, which he opened and set on the counter to breath. “Mondays are Raisa’s night off. She has a regular durak game.”

Felicity nodded and put the water pitcher and glasses on the table that Oliver handed to her. He added wine glasses and gave the table a hard, appraising look. “I forgot something. Be right back.”

“Okay.” Felicity’s attention had already wandered to the bottle of wine that Oliver had left resting on the counter.

Oliver entered the kitchen a moment later carrying two ornate silver candle sticks, and a small crystal vase with roses in it. He set them down on the table and noticed Felicity studying the bottle of wine.

“Do you want to bring that over here? I’ll get the lasagna.”

“I can’t touch it! That’s a bottle of Harlan Estate’s 2002 red. It’s like a grand at auction!”

Oliver smiled slightly, “You like wine?”

Felicity nodded, though still in awe of the bottle of wine. She and Dan had a bottle in their collection, but they were letting it age still and they wouldn’t drink it so casually.

Oliver came over and took it from her and put it on the table. “We have two cases of it in the cellar.”

“You have a wine cellar?” Her voice grew higher as she spoke, but she managed to stop herself from squealing with excitement.

“That’s the first time I have heard you genuinely interested in the house.” Oliver commented with a glint in his eye, and tiny uptick of one corner of his mouth. She smiled at his amusement and took the plate of grilled marinated zucchini, eggplant and peppers that he handed her and placed it on the tabled. He pulled out the lasagna from the oven where it was warming and deposited it on the table.

“It’s not really a house.”

“No, but it’s my home.” Oliver poured her wine, and she immediately inhaled the warm rich scent of blackberries, cherries, dark chocolate and a lingering hint of cinnamon.

Oliver smiled at her evident pleasure and took a long sniff of his glass. “How did you learn about wine?”

“Dan loves wine, and he corrupted me.” She took a sip on the wine and rolled it along her tongue and enjoyed its ripe, full body. Oliver watched her swallow before he spoke.

“How do you know him?” Felicity could tell that Oliver was making an effort to be nonchalant, but she could hear a tiny bit of jealousy and suspicion in his voice.

“He was one of my dance partners,” she explained.

“Like Digg?” Oliver gestured for her plate and added a heaping serving of lasagna and grilled vegetables. The smell of fragrant herbs and cheese wafted up from the plate. Oliver served himself after she took back her plate.

She nodded, “Yes, though Digg was only in Boston for a few months. Daniel was my partner for almost two years. We started dancing after his first semester at Harvard and kept dancing until he graduated with his MBA.”

“I can’t really imagine Daniel Gagarin taking dance classes.”

“Have you met my Baba?” Oliver shook his head no. “People don’t generally tell her no, and she wanted Daniel to be my partner.”

“I would have thought that it was your grandfather who laid down the law.” Oliver teased.

Felicity couldn’t help her eyebrow from arching at Oliver’s comment. There were lots of things that Deda was inclined to enforce, but the law was not one of them.

Oliver laughed, “You know what I mean. Anatoly always makes sure to stay on Leo’s good side, and Anatoly is the most ruthless man I have ever met.”

Felicity took a bite of the excellent lasagna. Mostly she wanted to savor the cheesy deliciousness, but she used the lull in conversation to collect her thoughts.

She answered carefully, “Successful pakhans understand how and when to use violence and intimidation, and Deda is a very successful pakhan.”

“I would agree with that. No one in Russia has ever held the position for more than a decade. Leo’s been pakhan for what, thirty years? And he hasn’t faced a serious challenge in what twenty-five years?”

“Twenty-seven years.” Felicity swirled her wine glass and focused on the deep almost black liquid. “Everyone knows what Leo is willing to do as pakhan and to protect the Bratva, but it is my grandma who is willing to do anything to protect Leo.

Oliver’s face stilled before he replied, “It’s different isn’t it? Loyalty to a cause versus love for a person.”

“People usually think that loyalty and love are the same thing.” Felicity knew both emotions, but the feelings had never aligned. She loved Cooper, but she was never loyal to his cause or his dreams.

“It’s like this house.” Oliver gestured to the room around them as he spoke, and Felicity knew that he meant more than just the mansion’s physical trappings. “I don’t care for it, nothing about it inspires me, or makes me want to protect it, but I am loyal to it and to what it represents. If I closed it up, or donated it to the city, I might be happier but it would be a betrayal.”

Felicity understood exactly what Oliver meant. Deda loved Donna—he loved his whole family even as small as it was now—but Deda’s loyalty was to the Bratva. It was to the men that he protected and who in return were loyal to him even if they were too scared to love him. His family suffered because Deda would always put his loyalties first.

Felicity knew, beyond any doubt, that Oliver would always put his family, and those that depended on him first too.

“It is scary when love and loyalty unite. Baba is like that. She loves Deda first and foremost and is completely loyal to him.”

Felicity had never been able to figure out what Sophie’s feelings were about the Bratva. Felicity knew Sophie liked the power and prestige that came with Leo’s position, but Sophie was just as clear that the Bratva’s internal rules bothered her when they hurt Leo. The only consistent thing her grandmother ever did was support Leo entirely, and protect him even when he didn’t want her to.

“Anatoly is the same way. He has never loved a person as much or as truly as he loves the Bratva. Its his heart and soul.” Oliver stabbed a piece of zucchini and began to crave it apart with a passionless precision that made Felicity wonder what Oliver sacrificed to survive in Anatoly Knyazev’s shadow.

“Baba thinks his current wife is an idiot.”

“I heard that Sophie actually said that to Anatoly’s face at the wedding.” Oliver’s voice was laced with admiration.

“Baba rarely keeps her opinions to herself, and it’s not like Anatoly disagreed. It’s my understanding that he didn’t marry her for her brains or for her true heart.”

“No, marriage is business arrangement for Anatoly. It’s not in her interest to stab him in his sleep, and he likes having someone who makes his life… softer at home.”

Felicity wondered what Oliver was going to say before he changed his mind. she was going to ask, and then changed her own mind. “I never wanted a marriage like that. This morning Dan suggested that Baba chose my dance partners for more complicated reasons than I use to believe.”

“You thought she was fixing you up?” Oliver’s lips ticked up just a bit, and his eyes glowed with humor. He had obviously been on the wrong end of family fix-ups before.

“Yes. She didn’t know that Daniel was gay when she called him.”

“And, now?”

“All my dance partners...they would all be good pakhans, or at least a pakhan’s second.” Felicity shrugged as her voice trailed off.

At the time she had thought that it was because Baba assumed that she would be more attracted to an alpha male. It had never occurred to her that the men her grandmother introduced her to were all the type who could protect her, as though she had always been a pawn in the Bratva.

Oliver followed her train of logic,“So she was protecting you from this exact situation?”

“Possibly. Baba never has only one reason for doing anything. With one stone she could get an heir for Leo, keep me safe, and get grandbabies.” Felicity threw her hands up in frustration at the last point.

“Grandbabies?” Oliver’s voice was even, though there was the faintest hint of curiosity and maybe interest?

Felicity worried that he was retreating behind his Oliver Queen persona because she had said something that made him uncomfortable, but his face was still animated and open. His eyes did not fall still and he put on a blank expression like he did when pressed with Bratva business that he didn’t like. But, she couldn’t read what his soft smile and warm eyes meant.

Felicity ears burned and her throat closed up with embarrassment, “You can forget that I said that.”

“Nope. Not forgetting.” Oliver’s smile grew wider; it was charming, and teasing, but mostly it was a devilish smile.

“Please!” Felicity knew she was being teased, but it didn’t ease her panic. She didn’t want Oliver to think that she thought he had any role in her producing grandbabies for Baba.

“I understand where Baba is coming from. Someday I would like grandbabies of my own to spoil rotten.”

Felicity’s embarrassment started to recede, but then Oliver continued, “Before the grandbabies though, I want my own kids.”

Oliver punctuated his statement by meeting Felicity’s eyes and holding her attention. Nothing that he said sounded like a promise, and yet Felicity knew that there was a declaration in his words if she wanted to hear it. It was a promise that was both terrifying and very appealing.

Felicity didn’t know what to say, which of course meant that she opened her mouth and words started coming out. “Uh...yeah...babies sound good. I like babies. They are cute and squishy and they smell good except when they don’t. But, yeah making babies is fun…”

Felicity’s voice petered out as she realized exactly what she had said and what she had implied. She knew her face was slack with mortification, and her shoulders clenched with embarrassment. Oliver didn’t seem to share her aghast reaction. His eyes literally twinkled with amusement, and he looked even more relaxed than before she started to blabber. His comfortable reaction pushed her past her embarrassment and made her curious.

“You don’t get embarrassed when I put my foot in my mouth, do you?” Felicity really did wonder. No one else ever reacted to her verbal missteps with such equanimity.

Oliver twirled his own wine glass and took a moment before he answered. “I guess because no one else is so unguarded with me. They always see me as a Queen, or their boss, or a billionaire and they act accordingly. My ex...she cared about me, but to her part of loving me also meant maintaining appearances because I was Oliver Queen--billionaire, playboy, corporate heir apparent. Tommy doesn’t care that I am Oliver Queen, but that is because then he would have to also care that he is Tommy Merlyn. I don’t think you put your foot in your mouth because of my name or my money.”

“Oh.”

She really didn’t know how to respond to his answer. It had never occurred to her that part of the reason that he liked her was because she could be so artless when it came to their personal interactions. She knew she put her foot in her mouth when she was talking to him because...well… he was incredibly attractive, but more than that she trusted him and that seemed to obliterate any mouth to brain filter that she had built over the years.

Oliver shrugged slightly and let the conversation die, which Felicity appreciated. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just contemplative and she needed to the space to think.

Felicity finished her food, and watched Oliver studying his empty wine glass. All the times that she listened to Lucy talk about Oliver Queen when they were in college she had never really thought about who the man actually was. Lucy’s attraction and fangirling was based on his name and handsome face. Felicity had heard Oliver’s name and seen his strong jaw and made the same assumptions too. She never wondered what it would be like to grow up with a Queen’s burden. She guessed that most people approached him because they wanted something from him, even if it was just a night in his bed.

Oliver’s admission made Felicity think of her mother. Donna and Oliver were almost nothing alike, but for as long as Felicity could remember her mother had the same innate distrust of anyone that expressed an interest in her. Donna always assumed people saw the blonde bombshell or aging cocktail waitress, not the woman who never complained about the eight computers her thirteen year old daughter kept in their one bedroom apartment.

Felicity knew her mother’s history. Donna had been a pretty child, and beautiful teenager before she became a striking young woman. Even if she hadn’t been pretty she was still Leo Zalutsky’s only daughter. She was a prize to be won and bridge to power for any man in the Bratva. She may have found a way out of the Bratva, but the only thing Donna had to leverage at that point was her beauty. She used it convince Felicity’s father to marry her, and when he left she had used her smile and her curves to get the tips she needed to pay the bills.

Felicity had always judged her mother for letting herself become a commodity, but maybe it was a choice made for Donna that she then had to live with afterwards. Felicity had been the token girl in the robotics club in elementary school and then the oddball in her high school’s computer programming class. Even at MIT she hadn’t exactly fit in or been accepted for who she was, but she chose to be that girl who played with computers, the one who wore the goth clothes, and then the blonde in bright colors.

For better or worse, Felicity had also chosen to be her grandfather’s dancing teacup. She struck a bargain and let the Bratva into her life for tuition, and a closet full of nice clothes. As a bonus she got an awesome Deda and a sassy Baba, but it didn’t change that it was always her choice to be their granddaughter.

Her mother had never chosen to be the only one of Leo Zalutsky’s children to survive the Bratva. In much the same way, Oliver had never chosen to be a Queen.

“Would you like more lasagna?” Oliver’s voice pulled Felicity back to the table and their empty dinner plates.

“Oh! Sorry I got lost in my thoughts.” Oliver nodded with acceptance and not annoyance, but Felicity still felt rude. She smiled ruefully, “No, thanks.”

Oliver nodded and started to collect their empty dishes. Felicity followed him with the lasagna pan.

She looked around the kitchen, but had no idea where the tupperware or aluminum foil was stored, “What should I do with the leftovers?”

Oliver replied almost sternly, “You’re a guest, you don’t need to clean up.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at him, “You’re a billionaire. I don’t think you have to do dishes either. Anyway Raisa cooked, and she isn’t here to stop me from helping.”

Oliver answered with a good natured laugh, “In this house on Monday nights this billionaire does the dishes. You can cover the lasagna and put it in the fridge. The veggies can go in a tupperware, which are in that drawer.”

Felicity found the tupperware neatly stacked in the drawer and started to put the food away. Oliver plugged his phone into the the sound system and pulled up a playlist of classic rock songs. He sang along softly to the Rolling Stones as he did the dishes. She finished her job before he did and she sat at the counter with another glass of wine and watched him clean the kitchen with efficient elegance.

She blushed when he noticed her checking out his ass as he swept the floor. Oliver just grinned and kept sweeping the floor with deliberate care so that his ass was always in her line of sight. It was hard to not giggle into her wine glass as she enjoyed the show.

She spoke as he was putting away the broom. “Oliver, can I see the notebook your father sent to you?”

“Of course, but why do you want to see it?”

“I promised to help you find out what happened to your father and I as much as I prefer computers it seems like the best place to start.”

“You don’t have--

“I promised, Oliver. Let me help you with this.”

Oliver nodded, but didn’t immediately say anything. Felicity knew that this wasn’t a silence that she should fill, so she kept her mouth shut. After a few moments Oliver did speak, with a much quieter honesty than Felicity had expected. “I am not use to having a partner. It’s in the safe in the study, which I have been meaning to show you.”

Oliver led her out of the kitchen and down the hallway towards the family sitting room.

“Sara says that you have been working at the Queen Anne writing desk in your room.” Felicity nodded at Oliver, but really she had mostly been working in bed, even though she knew it wasn’t great for her wrists or back.

Oliver continued as though he was reading her mind, “That desk is not meant for hours of computer work. Sara also mentioned that you are frustrated with only your laptop here.”

Felicity had been remotely logging into her home network to use its much stronger processors, but what she really missed was her large screens in her home office that made it much easier to work in multiple windows. Sara clearly had been listening when Felicity complained during their entire drive to work in the morning.

“I know that you and Sara think my place isn’t very secure, but I would really like to work there in the evenings. I’ll continue to stay here.”

Oliver stopped in front of a closed door, “If this won’t work for you, I am happy to buy whatever you need to get setup here at the mansion.”

She frowned slightly at the fact that he had all but said no to her request to spend time at her apartment. However, he opened the door before she could speak, and her attention immediately shifted to the incredible computer setup.

“Do you also work for the NSA?” She sat down at the workstation, with its three large screens and ergonomic keyboard without invitation. She looked at the discrete black processor towers and literally salivated. Her fingers were practically itching to code something and started to dance as she turned everything on.“Seriously, this setup is better than mine at home, and most of that stuff is not available to the public.”

Oliver smiled at her clear delight with the computers. “Digg has a connection.”

Felicity half nodded and kept typing, she barely noticed that he was speaking. She was engrossed in exploring the computer in front of her. The system was clearly not used much, but it was well maintained and it had been set up by the computing gods.

“You use this beauty to play solitaire!” Felicity didn’t try to hide her disgust about such an incredible system going to such a horrible waste. “She deserves to hack at least the FBI.You can totally handle the CIA can’t you baby.”

Felicity resisted petting the computer, but felt no shame about talking to it like other people talked to their pets. Her computers were substantially smarter than Fido, and coding was more fun than playing catch.

“Well she is all yours now. I’ll keep the solitaire to my phone,”Oliver sincerely stated.

Felicity continued, “At least play Candy Crush. Solitaire is very 1992. Its like you spent five years on a deserted island and not five years with the Russian mob.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth Felicity realized that Oliver might not react well to her teasing.

Deda was always reminding her that most of the men in the Bratva weren’t use to being teased by a young and pretty woman, and more importantly they didn’t really like it. The Bratva didn’t even try to hide the rampant misogyny that was part and parcel of the culture. Felicity’s tendency to put her foot in her mouth and her general refusal to suffer fools meant that Deda and Baba didn’t introduce her to many other members of the Bratva when she visited them. Felicity thought that its was stupid for her to change her behavior to accommodate their egos and thin skin and Deda preferred not to have to settle their ruffled feathers.

“Noted. Candy Crush from now on. Will this set up do? Please let me know if there is anything that you would rather have.” Oliver switched topics, and Felicity remembered their reason for being in the office in the first place.

“This is great. Seriously, it will be a breeze to hack the FBI from here. Like taking candy from babies. You said that your dad’s notebook was here?”

Felicity surreptitiously looked around for it. She didn’t notice it anywhere on the tidy book shelves or in any of the neat stacks on the desk.

Oliver nodded, “It’s in the safe.”

He walked over to a landscape painting of wheat fields that was disconcertingly like one that Felicity had seen in a museum. The bucolic scene fit the decor of the office well enough because like the rest of the manor the room was filled with impressive antiques, rich fabrics, and real art. The thousands of dollars of computer equipment looked more out of place than the painting.

Oliver gently pulled on a corner of the painting and it swung away from the wall to reveal a black safe hidden in the wall.

“Is that for real?”

“Yes?” Oliver paused and turned to look at her slightly perplexed.

“It’s just I have only ever seen a safe hidden behind a painting on TV,” Felicity explained.

Oliver laughed with understanding, “Sometimes things on TV are true. Anyway, I should show the safe in the dungeon next.”

“YOU HAVE A DUNGEON?”

“Yeah, it’s next to the superhero lair.” Oliver wasn’t quite as good at sarcasm as Sara, but his tone sufficiently conveyed that Felicity missed the joke in his first comment.

“Anyway, I keep the notebook in here when I don’t have it on me.” Oliver gestured her over. “It’s a numerical password. 15-12-9-22-5-18, which is--

“Your name using the 26 alphabet as your base. I guess that is more secure than your birthday.” Felicity’s voice died away as soon Oliver started to laugh.

“Yeah, about that…” Oliver started to open the safe while Felicity sputtered.

She decided to try playing dumb, “I have no idea what you are referring to.”

“Really? Because I keep wondering why my birthday was a backdoor password to QC’s electronic locks and you were the only one who knew it.”

While he was teasing her Oliver took the notebook out of the safe and sat down on the plush love seat. He gestured her over, and she sat down next to him.

“Can we possibly forget about it?” Felicity asked, though she assumed it was unlikely that Oliver would let it go.

Oliver mimed overthinking, and rubbed his chin. Felicity didn’t know entirely what to make of this playful and more relaxed version of him. Something about a dinner at home, and honest conversation let Oliver put his masks away for the night. She liked him this way, probably too much. The last thing that she needed was to fall madly in love with the only man in the Bratva who did not want to be pakhan.

Oliver spoke, “I am willing to consider forgetting about it in exchange for something else.”

“What do you want?” Felicity narrowed her eyes with suspicion as she replied.

“Your favorite color.”

“Seriously?”

“I know that you can hack the FBI, and that you intimidate Maksim Gargarin, but I don’t know what your favorite color is.” Oliver placed his hand on her thigh. It wasn’t possessive so much as a way for her to feel his sincere interest in her.

Felicity actually did understand Oliver’s point. She knew his secrets, but she didn’t really know much about him.

Felicity answered in a rush, “Purple...or blue...Purple. And, my roommate in college had a crazy crush on you so I started using facts about you to generate passwords that I needed to remember. Can I see the notebook?” She intentionally changed the subject partially because she was really curious about the notebook, but mostly because she found flirtatious Oliver to be rather unsettling.

Oliver accepted the change in focus, and handed her the notebook. She immediately opened it and started looking through it. Oliver studied her as she leafed through the pages.

About three quarters of the pages had some writing on them, however there were numerous random blank pages interspersed throughout. Most of the writing looked like simple notes. She stopped to read one entry, “ _Cancel dinner with O tomorrow. Book ticket--Cash_.” She also found notes about meetings, jots about QC stock prices, and even some random basketball scores and what looked like betting spreads. There was no clear order to it, but it seemed roughly chronological, which made the blank pages more noticeable.

Oliver spoke as she started reading through it more slowly. “He doesn’t seem to have a consistent shorthand or method to organizing it.” Oliver pointed at the page she was on, “ _T@SCC, Malcolm, 10_ which I think means a tennis match at Starling City Club with Malcolm Merlyn.”

Felicity nodded. “Do you know why he left some pages blank?”

“No idea. I don’t think that he was really very organized with how he added things.” Olive took the notebook back from her and turned to a page with the note _Crystal, 15--Moira?_ , “Like I think this note is about an anniversary gift for my mother, but their fifteenth anniversary was several years before this, and he took her to Paris instead of giving her crystal.”

“Do you think there are clues in here? It seems pretty much to just be the sort of normal reminders about his schedule and stuff.”

Oliver flipped through the book and stopped on another page. “I don’t think he would have sent it to me, not with that note, if there wasn’t something in here he wanted me to find.” Oliver shoulders caved in a little, and Felicity leaned into his side to offer some support. “But, I have read it thousands of times and I have no idea what is suppose to be helpful.”

Oliver pointed out another comment, _Lance brought O home drunk. High? Schedule time to talk to him_. “He had to schedule time to talk to me? Like I was one of his lackeys at QC.”

Felicity didn’t know what to say so she took his free hand and held it. He gave her hand a squeeze, but released it so he could show her more of the notebook.

“And then there are notes like that that I have no idea what they mean.” Oliver pointed to another page that contained a list of three digit codes followed by several columns of numbers and other letters.

“It looks like a shipping log. Or at least those could be airport codes, flight numbers, and possible the other letters could be some code for what is being sent.”

“I thought that too, but none of it lines up right. Like this could be the airport code for Bangkok, but no flights with any of those numbers have ever gone there.”

Felicity nodded, “I still think it looks like a shipping log, but I think maybe it’s a code...or only a part of it.” Felicity hummed to herself and read through the list again. “Let me work on it.”

“I really appreciate you offering to help, but this isn’t your responsibility.” Oliver had his serious Bratva captain face on again.

“Oliver, I already told you that I am helping. Your feelings for me are part of the reason that you didn’t take Maksim’s deal. The least I can do is help you.”

It felt right to punctuate her statement by hugging him so she shifted slightly to her knees so she could give him a better hug.

Oliver pulled her further into the hug as he answered, “I don’t want you to feel responsible for Maksim’s behavior. I would have never accepted his conditions no matter how attracted I am to you. You are a person--not a commodity.”

Felicity blushed at his admission that he was attracted to her. There had obviously been signs that he was interested in her in a way that had nothing to do with her family from his first charming smile in the elevator, but it was still a surprise to hear him say it. When it came to men being attracted to her, Felicity’s mental image of herself tended to regress to being thirteen, pudgy, with mouse brown hair that she didn’t know how to blow out, and bad glasses. She had aged out of it, but she was never one of the girls that the boys in her school followed with their eyes.

Oliver must have mistaken the reason for her surprised reaction because he continued, “But, I do really appreciate your offer to help.”

Even if Felicity was thinking about other things, she liked that Oliver made sure to tell her that her offer mattered to him. “Good. I’m yours to be used as you see fit....and I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“So that means I can’t kiss you?” Oliver pulled her closer to him so that she was almost straddling his lap instead of sitting next to her. His left thumb swirled gentle circles on her hip where his hand rested. His other hand gently pushes a piece of her hair behind her ear. His eyes were filled with an emotion that Felicity thought spelled trouble for her squishy feelings.

“No, no you can totally use me for kissing…” She shuddered slightly at herself, but continued, “I’m just going to stop talking….”

To prove her point she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Up until that moment she had not had any immediate plans to kiss him. In fact, she was beginning to think that a little distance might be a good thing. He was too charming, too sweet, and altogether too handsome for her to screw around with. There was something about their easy rapport and natural trust that was deeply concerning to Felicity. She understood instantaneous lust. Oliver wasn’t the first man that she looked at and immediately imagined getting naked with him. However, he was the first one that she found herself wanting to call because she missed the sound of his voice.

But, all her concerns disappeared as soon as their lips touched.

Oliver responded with the speed and and quick reflexes that she was coming to expect. Both his hands moved to her hips, and with an easy strength truly pulled her on top of him. Her skirt hampered her movements and stopped kissing him to try and get more comfortable. Oliver immediately deduced the problem, and hiked up her pencil skirt so that she could more easily straddle him, revealing the pale skin of her thighs as her knees gripped his sides. She shifted to give herself a better position to kiss him and Oliver helped her settle into his lap. She laced her hands behind his neck, and ran her fingers along the skin of his neck.

Unlike their other kisses, nothing held her back this time. This was not a show to fool the police, or a kiss to disrupt Maksim’s plans. They weren’t in his glass office, being watched by who the hell knows. This kiss was just them and it was heartstopping and terrifying. She knew without a doubt that her interest in Oliver had nothing to do with his ability to protect her or his money. If that was why she liked him, this would feel like those other kisses. Those other kisses had been lovely, and toe curly, but some little part of her heart knew those kisses weren’t entirely based on her desire for Oliver.

This kiss was just for the two them and it was liberating and wonderful.

Felicity teased Oliver’s bottom lip with her teeth. He responded to her request and relaxed his jaw so she could explore his mouth with her tongue. Their position on the couch gave her just enough extra height to being the one leaning down, and controlling their kiss and Oliver let her ravish him.

Oliver responded to her teasing tongue by pulling her blouse out of her skirt’s waistband and sliding his hands down her skirt, over the lace fringe of her thong so that his fingers cupped her ass. She loved the feel of his fingers gripping her there, and pulling her closer to him.

Neither of them tried to hold back or pretend that they didn’t want to feel more of each other’s skin. Felicity didn’t care that she pressed her breasts into his chest just to feel his heart racing or that she stopped kissing his lips and gently traced his chiseled jaw with her tongue. When she reached his ear and gave it a gentle nip, Oliver groaned and his hands kneaded her ass.

She pulled back slightly, “Sorry...I just really wanted to do that all day.”

Oliver gasped slightly, struggling to focus on using his tongue to talk. “Kiss me? I have wanted to do more than that since the first time I saw you in the elevator.”

“Really?” Felicity scooted a little further back. Oliver moved his hands from her skirt to give her space. His fingers started lightly brush up and down her sides tickling the skin of her ribcage. “You wanted to kiss me when I was babbling about babas and tea?”

Oliver nodded and his hands moved up to cup her face. “I wanted to kiss you so that your bright pink lipstick rubbed off and everyone would know it was because of me.” As an illustration of his point he kissed her so thoroughly and tenderly that she was pretty sure kissing anyone else was going to suck from now on.

Oliver broke their kiss and stared into her eyes,“Do you want me to tell you what else I was thinking about in the elevator?”

She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded and bite her lip.

“First, I wanted to see your hair down.” His hands reached behind her and gently pulled her hair out of its practical ponytail. She whimpered as he massaged her scalp and ran his fingers through her hair so it cascaded over her shoulders.

“That’s even better than I imagined.” He grinned and continued, “Then I wanted to do this.” He softly pulled her glasses off and folded them and neatly placed them on the side table. “It’s cute the way that you push them up when you are concentrating.” She started to protest, but he kept talking, “But, I didn’t want them to get in the way when I did this.”

He brought his lips back to hers with a crashing force that made her think of a storm finally making landfall. His last kiss had been tender like a warm day the beach, but this one was searing with heat. She gripped his shoulders and could literally feel desire rolling off him in waves, rippling through his muscles, building up along his skin, and blowing over into her. She responded in kind, feeling herself swept away from rational thought, so that the only thing left was desire.

When she moaned with pleasure, his lips twitched with the proud little smile of his that was quickly becoming her favorite part of her day.

Oliver shifted his attention from her lips and slowly started to trail kisses down her neck. “As much as I wanted to taste your lips, I couldn’t stop thinking about feeling your heartbeat rushing because of what I was doing to you.” He pressed a swift kiss to the pulse point on her neck and chuckled when he did feel her blood surging.

Felicity had thought nothing could feel better than Oliver kissing her lips, but this was better. She angled her neck so it was easier for him to bite the delicate skin of her collar bone. He followed her hint like the avid student that he was and studied her skin with the attention that she was craving. When her blouse blocked him from licking the whole length of her collarbone, he pushed it out of his way, but it wasn’t enough for Felicity. She reached and found the bottom hem and leaned away from him for just long enough to pull her shirt off and toss it behind her.

When she moved away from him, Oliver let out a frustrated sigh, but when he realized what she was doing he sat back into the couch and swallowed slowly as he took in her bare shoulders, electric blue lace bra, and heaving breasts. His eyes found her’s again and his hands wrapped around her thighs, and shifted her hips so that she was resting on the hard length of his growing erection.

As much as Felicity enjoyed the way that his eyes were drinking her in she wanted his lips back on her skin. “What else did you want to do to me in the elevator Oliver?” She made her point by pressing her hips a little farther into his pelvis and flexing her thigh muscles. When Oliver leaned back into the cushions, she used the opportunity to start unbuttoning the buttons of his shirt.

Oliver laughed at her clear desire to get his shirt off. She managed to undo two of them before he helped her with the rest of the buttons and slide his arms out his shirt. She pulled the shirt way and dropped it next to them so that she has a better view of his chest. His shoulders were all enticing muscle that she wanted to kiss, and his abs were hard plains with ridged edges that she wanted to lick. She had expected all of that, even the tattooes weren’t a surprise. She knew that he would have the eight point star over his heart, and most men in the Bratva collected others as marks of their successes. Felicity didn’t know what the chinese characters along his right flank meant, but she was sure there was some meaning to the tattoo. Seeing him for the first time took her breath away, but it was the ragged and rough scars that littered his skin that gave her pause.

Felicity reached out her fingers to touch them and then stopped. She knew without a doubt that Oliver never showed these scars to people. They weren’t a part of being a billionaire playboy. No these were scars from his life with the Bratva, and she didn’t want to hurt him by calling attention to them. She looked up into his eyes and he must have read the question in her eyes.

“The bratva is not an easy life, Felicity.” She nodded, though she wasn’t sure that he was exactly referring to his scars. He pulled her fingers to his Bratva tattoo and gently outlined each of the points with the tips of her fingers. She watched their hands move together, tracing the proof that he was part of her world. Felicity could feel the steady, fast, beating of his heart under the scar tissue of the tattoo. It was impossible for her to separate the two sensations.

She looked back into his eyes, “I’m not looking for easy Oliver, though right now I think we are both being pretty easy.” She loved the way that she could feel his laugh start in his belly, gather in his chest, and spill out of his mouth.

Oliver’s laughter quickly shifted to something more primal when she dipped her head down to his chest and traced the tattoo with her tongue, just like her fingers had a moment before. She kissed each of the scars that she could find, tasting his skin and loving that he was sharing this part of himself with her. She liked that he had badges from life, hard work, and the Bratva. Like his muscles and callused fingers, these scars were proof that he was more than a pretty face and a fat bank account.

As she was kissing his scars, Oliver pushed one of her bra strap down her shoulder. When she paused to rub her hands across his pecs, he tooks the opening and dragged his teeth across the creamy skin of her chest, stopping randomly to press kisses and nip small love bites. Felicity arched into his touched and his arms wrapped around her, giving her needed support and him better access to her chest.

Oliver’s right hand glided over her lace bra until his fingers were cupping one of her breasts. At first his thumb rubbed light circles over the flimsy lace. As her nipple hardened with the attention, Oliver pulled his lips up to her ears, and whispered, “In the elevator, I wanted to peel off that polka dot blouse you were wearing and find out if your bra was a colorful as the rest of your outfit.”

His fingers stopped gently squeezing her breast, and dipped into the lace cup so that he could free her breast from the fabric. As soon as her nipple was free, Oliver started to pinch it in a way that sent shocks of pleasure coursing down her backbone. She gasped from the sensation.

“I wanted to push the elevator’s stop button, so that I would have time to find out the sounds that you would make when I did this.”

Oliver shifted his lips to her breast and took her nipple in his mouth. He suckled and teased with abandon, and it was a thousand times hotter than his fingers have been. She bucked, and drove her hips farther into his pelvis. His own hips pushed up to meet hers, rubbing his erection, trapped by fabric, against her inflamed skin. One of his hands moved to grip her thigh and the other spread across her back to hold her in place so he could continue to devour her.

Felicity closed her eyes and let the feelings wash over her. She could barely focus on anything beyond his warm mouth and where their hips met. All of Oliver’s attention was on her too because neither of them heard the footsteps or the latch of the door opening.

“Ollie! You invited your girlfriend to live here?” Felicity could tell from the voice that it was a very mad young woman yelling at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. To everyone in the states happy Thanksgiving, and to all my readers thanks for sticking with me. I am totally grateful for your support of this story.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to fairytalehearts for betaing this chapter. All mistakes, typos, etc are my fault. Also I can't believe that I started this story a year ago today, and thought it would take me three or four months to finish. Yeah...right. Thanks for hanging in there with me everyone!

Fast as lightning, Oliver’s muscles tensed and his attention moved to whoever was at the door. His mouth shot away from her chest and his gaze shifted so he could look over her shoulder to see who was there. 

“Speedy!” Oliver growled and used what Felicity was coming to think of as his Bratva voice. It did not broker any room for disagreement for anyone, let alone whomever interrupted them. “OUT!”

Felicity remembered in a rush of embarrassment that Speedy was Oliver’s nickname for Thea. Felicity started to turn towards the door to see how angry his sister was, and then realized exactly what her state of dress was and dove into Oliver’s chest and arms for cover. He lightly kissed the top of her head and reached for his shirt which he draped over her shoulders so that her skin was hidden from Thea. Thea did not seem inclined to follow her brother’s command, and Felicity could hear the click of her heels as she walked further into the office. 

Felicity turned to fully look at Oliver’s sister. Thea and Oliver didn’t look much alike at first glance. His sister was slight and agile where he was tall and rigid though Thea’s pale skin and brown hair matched Oliver’s coloring. Their resemblance was strongest in the eyes. Thea’s look of rash judgment, pent up anger, and clear obstinacy echoed Oliver’s own look of annoyance, frustration, and stubborn refusal to back down. 

Thea shifted her attention from her brother, who was staring daggers at her, to Felicity who could feel her blush exploding across her cheeks like a nuclear disaster. Thea gave her a very curt once over that made Felicity feel like she was in high school again and just been found lacking by the resident alpha bitch. 

“Nice bra. Blue is a good color for your boobs.” Thea said as she summarily dismissed Felicity, and turned her gaze back to her brother. “Seriously, Ollie? This is my home too.”

Something told Felicity that this particular argument had more to do with him and less to do with her being in Thea’s home.

“Thea, I will talk to you in the kitchen in five minutes.” Oliver snapped. His tone wasn’t as harsh as when he first yelled at Thea, but the loss of command was replaced by clear annoyance with his sister. 

“Two minutes. You deserve some frustration.” Thea responded with a wicked edge that made Felicity suspect the younger woman could be cruel when she was hurt and defensive. 

Felicity was still sitting in Oliver’s lap so Thea did not have any proof of his arousal, but she was adult enough to know exactly how Oliver and Felicity felt when she interrupted them, and smart enough to guess that he would need a minute to get out of their current position. Felicity knew that nothing would happen now that they had been interrupted, but both of them had not gotten control of their desire. Felicity could feel adrenaline coursing through her veins followed closely by deep disappointment and entrenched frustration. 

Thea clearly wanted to annoy Oliver as much as possible because she added, “And bring whoever that is with you.”

Felicity could feel Oliver trying to get control over his temper by forcing his muscles to relax, and she ran her hands over his shoulders to give him something comforting and physical to focus on. He took a deep breath, and was able to sound almost human when he spoke, “Two minutes, Thea. Close the door on your way out.” 

Thea left as quickly as she entered, but the door remained open.

“Shut the DOOR!” Oliver shouted at his sister who did not come back to follow his orders.

Thea yelled to them as she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, “Remember mom’s rule? Open doors when you are alone with a girl, OLLIE!”

“I AM TWENTY-EIGHT!”

“AND STILL STUPID.” 

Oliver opened his mouth to yell back at the empty hallway, but Felicity spoke before he could, “Oliver. You did tell her I was staying here? Right?” 

Felicity moved off of his lap, where his pants were still tented because of his erection, and started to pull her bra back up. Oliver watched her clearly distracted by her actions, until she made a small coughing noise. 

Oliver eyes blanked for an instant before he remembered her question. “I told Roy to tell her that I had a guest staying in the Damask Room.” Oliver shrugged, “I assumed he did.” 

Felicity almost pointed out that Oliver should’ve told Thea himself, and maybe given her some more information about the situation. But, Felicity realized that they would not make Thea’s deadline for the kitchen meeting if they got into an argument about Oliver’s reticence. And, it wasn’t her place to tell him how to manage his relationship with his sister. 

However, Felicity wasn’t entirely able to stop herself from speaking, “I think that was bad assumption.”

Oliver nodded though he didn’t say anything. Once Felicity righted her bra she handed Oliver his shirt back. He pulled it on and started to button it, but left it untucked in a pointless attempt to hide the clear proof of his sexual frustration.

Felicity pulled on her blouse, and fixed her skirt. She put on her glasses when Oliver handed them to her. Once she could see clearly, she checked her hair and makeup in the mirror hanging over the love seat. Both looked like she had been rabidly making out with the hottest man she had ever met, which was exactly what had happened. There was nothing she could do to fix it now, and Thea already knew exactly what they had been doing so Felicity figured it was fine. 

Oliver reached his hand out to her and she took it. It was a sweet gesture given that minutes ago that same hand had been gripping the bare skin of her ass and then tweaking her nipples. Felicity sighed. If she kept thinking about it she was going to die of thwarted lust before they reached the kitchen. 

They walked into the kitchen still holding hands. Thea was putting the kettle on the stove when they entered.

“Tea, Blue Bra Lady?” Thea asked, pausing at the cupboard that assumedly held the mugs. 

The passing moments in the hallway had given Felicity sometime to gain control of her emotions and think about Thea’s reactions. It also helped Felicity control her tongue when Thea was so clearly looking for a fight. Felicity didn’t know much about Oliver’s sister, but she was beginning to suspect that she when she was angry her spoiled and rash side took control. Both Oliver and Sara talked about Thea with too much fondness for Felicity to believe that the young woman was always a drama queen. Pun unintended. 

Oliver exasperatedly interjected, “Thea--"

“Yes, please, Ms. Snarky.” Felicity interrupted Oliver before he could reprimand his sister and make this whole situation even more awkward. When Felicity spoke Oliver gave her a look that Felicity ignored and sat in her favorite stool. Felicity kept quiet while Thea studied her more intently than before. Felicity wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to become interesting all of a sudden, but Thea was no longer writing her off, which was good. 

“Well at least you are polite,” Thea remarked after a beat. “That puts you ahead of about eighty-seven percent of the other women he has slept with.” 

“Thea!” Oliver chided. His voice was heading back into his scary Bratva enforcer tone and his jaw was set in a way that made Felicity very concerned about him losing his temper and making even more of a scene. 

Felicity spoke quickly before Oliver could say anything that would further upset Thea. “Oliver, will you please introduce me to your sister? You are proving that you are ruder than eighty-seven percent of the men I have slept with.”

Thea didn’t laugh at what she said. Felicity suspected it took substantially more to crack Thea’s facade of trust fund dissatisfaction, but the younger woman’s lips loosened a bit, and her eyes lost their wary edge. 

Felicity found herself studying the siblings and hesitant to interfere with their battle of wills. When Thea wasn’t around Oliver spoke about his sister with fondness and obvious affection. His actual interactions with his sister were more adversarial than his stories though and Felicity suspected Oliver’s love for his sister blinded him to certain of her characteristics. In his stories Thea was clever, sharp, and unexpectedly sweet. Right now Thea had a smart mouth and a cutting way with words and any sweetness to her was hidden by bitterness. Felicity thought that Thea was vacillating between the over-indulged child she had been when Oliver left for Russia and the mature equal she wanted to be now. 

Oliver paused for a moment and then did as Felicity had requested. “Thea, this is Felicity Smoak. She is my guest.” Oliver stressed the last sentence as though that it would somehow make Thea behave. He continued with the formal introduction, “Felicity, my much younger and very frustrating sister, Thea.”

Felicity ignored Oliver’s embellishments and put out her hand. After a moment Thea took it. Their handshake was brief, but telling. Thea was no weakling with her grip and Felicity refused to release the other woman’s hand first. Thea nodded to Felicity and let go of Felicity’s hand when the kettle started to whistle.

Thea moved the kettle off of the heat and asked, “How do you take your tea, Felicity?”

Oliver answered before Felicity could speak, “Honey and lemon. Add whiskey to mine.”

Thea didn’t even pause at her brother’s words, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that Felicity.” 

Felicity decided to play along with Thea. “Lemon and honey, please.” 

Felicity didn’t know enough about the Queen family to understand Oliver and Thea’s relationship, but she was beginning to suspect it was more complicated than most sibling bonds. Oliver spoke of his parents with love and detachment, and Felicity guessed Thea had been even more ignored by their parents. It didn’t take a rocket scientist or graduating third in her class at MIT to realize that Oliver might have some intimacy issues. Felicity was sure that Oliver loved Thea, but watching him try to interact with his sister only highlighted that Oliver didn’t really know how to show someone he loved them. 

Thea fixed Felicity’s tea for her and handed her the warm mug. It seemed like her brother, Thea did not like to use the fine china. After serving Felicity, Thea fixed her own mug and leaned against the counter stirring it too patiently to look casual. 

When Oliver realized that Thea was not going to offer him tea, he made a sound that Felicity could best describe as, “Hmmph!” and went over to a cabinet and removed a crystal decanter filled with whiskey. He skipped the tea entirely and poured two fingers into a matching crystal tumbler. 

He took a generous swallow before speaking, “Speedy, I asked Roy to tell you that Felicity would be staying in the Damask Room for the foreseeable future.”

Thea turned towards her brother with an elegant precision that made Felicity think of a terminator and fixed him with a stare that was also worthy of machine built to kill humanity’s savior. 

Thea replied with a coolly deliberate tone, “Roy told me that you had an important Bratva guest staying at the Manor and that I should endeavor to stay out of her way because, I quote, ‘It’s Bratva business and doesn’t involve me.’” Thea actually made air quotes with her fingers. Instead of looking lame, or somehow odd, Thea made the move seem like she was flipping off her brother. “Imagine my-- ”

Oliver opened his mouth, and Thea’s voice dropped several hundred more degrees, so it burned like absolute zero. Before Oliver could say anything, Felicity yanked him into the stool next to her. Thea’s anger made her think of Sophie, and it was just better to let Baba get it all out in one blow. Oliver took one look at Felicity, and shut his mouth.

Thea quickly shifted her speech, “Thank you Felicity for making sure I am not rudely interrupted. What I was going to say, was, imagine my surprise when Tommy asked me what I thought of Oliver’s new girlfriend staying at the manor.”

“Usually you like surprises,” muttered Oliver. 

Both Thea and Felicity turned to stare at Oliver. He looked at them, realized he was outnumbered, and took a sip of his whiskey. 

Thea continued, now sounding slightly outraged. “I like surprises when they are puppies, or a Lamborghini. Maybe a trip to Paris. Not finding out that my brother’s new paramour is sleeping across the hallway from me. No offense Felicity, you actually seem pretty decent for someone who would date my idiot brother.” 

Felicity nodded her head as acceptance of the weak compliment. While Thea seemed to enjoy her outrage, and maybe relished expressing her anger to her brother a little too much, Felicity was pretty inclined to agree with the younger woman. Oliver’s behavior was presumptuous.

Oliver tried to defend himself, “Thea--”

Thea wasn’t done though, and she interrupted her brother, “Did you tell Roy to lie to me? Ollie, I know that you don’t like me dating him, but you can’t tell my boyfriend to lie to me. That’s not okay!”

“Thea, I didn’t tell Roy to lie to you.” Oliver sighed with very clear annoyance and a tiny bit of desperation. 

“So there is some Bratva princess staying here too?” Thea spoke with incredulation and disbelief. 

Felicity tried to clarify, “Thea, I am not a Bratva princess. There aren’t princesses in the Bratva. The only reason that there is a queen is because well that’s your brother’s name. Thats why he is called the Knyazev’s Korolova Captain. I mean...uh...I am here because of the Bratva, but I am not a princess.”

Felicity’s rambling was not helping. Thea’s eyes filled with anger again, and she turn her full attention back to Oliver. “Felicity gets to know about the Bratva?” 

Felicity wasn’t sure what she said that made Thea more upset, but her anger, which had been dissipating, was back in full force. 

Oliver sighed, “Speedy, I don’t tell you about the Bratva to keep you safe.”

Felicity actually turned in her seat and looked at Oliver, “Seriously? You think that ignorance will protect her? That’s stupid.”

“Felicity, you of all people know how dangerous the Bratva is and how cruel it can be.” Oliver exhaled. His annoyance was clearly moving from his sister to her. He took Felicity’s hand and stared into her eyes. “I just want to keep Thea safe.”

Thea watched the whole exchange and didn’t say anything. Her anger was still there based on how she held her mug and the unnecessarily precise way she stirred her tea, but Felicity realized that Thea had much better control of her emotions than her theatrics had suggested.

“Your role in the Bratva will always put her in danger, Oliver.” Felicity grasped his hand between both of hers. If Thea hadn’t been there she would have given him a kiss on his cheek because his behavior was sweet, although misguided. She turned to Thea, “Oliver is right, the Bratva is dangerous, and his refusal to tell you about it or let Roy tell you about it is normal. I’m here because marrying me has become the fastest and easiest way to succeed my grandfather, and my supposed suitors don’t care if I want to marry whoever wins me.”

Thea’s speedy stirring grew more natural as Felicity spoke. Oliver also kept quiet and listened to Felicity describe her situation. 

“Thea, if you’re from a Bratva family, you would know more about it, but not because anyone would have ever told you what was going on, or even assumed you should understand the family business. You would have learned about it because of the late night phone calls that made your father disappear, because of tense family dinners where your mother must host men that she knows do not have your family’s best interest at heart. You would have learned a little bit more every time you went to a funeral where no one will discuss how a healthy young man died. You would know that there were all these rules about what you couldn’t do or talk about and who you couldn’t be friends with, rules about what you wear, rules about who you must listen to. You would learn about your role in the Bratva when your father would invite your brother to go with him to run some errands, but he would never ask you or tell you what he was actually doing.”

Felicity hadn’t grown up that way. She had learned about the Bratva by gossiping with Sophie while shopping and drinking tea with her deda late into the night. The things that they wouldn’t tell her were easy to find when she was back at her computer. No, what she described was Donna’s life. Baba and Deda never pretended that they introduced their granddaughter to the Bratva the same way their daughter had learned about it. 

“It sounds a lot like being a Queen.” Thea spoke quietly and with less manufactured emotion than before. 

Felicity nodded, but it was Oliver who answered Thea. “It is, Speedy and it has far less of the benefits that come with our name and money. I didn’t realize you were so angry with my decision to not discuss the Bratva with you.”

Thea exclaimed, “It’s this little club that you and Raisa, Sara, Roy, and Digg have you guys won’t let me be a part of it!” This time Thea’s hurt sounded more genuine and she did have a sincere reason to feel excluded. “The only reason I know anything about it is because you told me so that I would stop misplacing my panic button. Otherwise, you would have never ever told me that you were part of some Russian gang!”

Oliver replied, “It’s not that Thea, but there is no going back, and there is no halfway when it comes to the Bratva.” 

Felicity picked up the conversation when Oliver stopped talking, “Your brother is right about that, but he is wrong to not give you a choice. I promise to answer your questions as much as I can while respecting that your brother does not want you to be a part of the Bratva.”

Oliver looked at her, but his eyes were closed off and his lips were not quirked in the little smile that he seemed to always have on his face when she was around. 

“It’s my right to not agree with you, Oliver,” Felicity sighed. “I will respect your rules because you are a captain and she is your family, but you can’t tell me what to do.”

Oliver considered her words for a moment before nodding. He made his understanding and acceptance of her argument clearer when he leaned over and gave Felicity a firm kiss on the side of her head, before turning back to his sister. He took a deep breath, “Speedy, I am not promising to tell you about the Bratva or to let you be a part of it. But, I have never lied about it to you, and I would never order Roy to lie to you.

Thea took a long sip of her tea before acknowledging that her brother’s statement “I appreciate that you won’t outright lie, but at a certain point your omissions are the same thing. You guys are my family, and I want to support you, just like you want to protect me.”

Oliver nodded, but didn’t say anything or agree with Thea. All things said and done, Felicity actually thought his promise to not lie was better than him outright refusing to talk to his sister. 

Thea appeared to agree because she turned to Felicity and abruptly changed the subject. “So Tommy says you are going to benefit on Friday. What are you going to wear?” she asked.

Felicity actually laughed at how enthusiastic Thea sounded all of a sudden. “I haven’t decided. Probably the dress I wore to the Gagarins’ Christmas party last year.”

Thea shook her head and disagreed, “You need something new and killer. This is your debut as Ollie’s girlfriend. Trust me when I say you should make an impression.” Thea turned to her brother expectantly, palm up, “Felicity will need your credit card.”

By Felicity, Thea meant she wanted her brother’s card and that the two of them would be going shopping. Apparently the younger Queen was well-versed in getting Oliver to do what she wanted. Not that Felicity wanted to go shopping. Between the Bratva and her actual work at QC, Felicity’s to-do list was already too long. 

Felicity interrupted, “I don’t need your credit card, Oliver, and I am sure I can find something in my closet, Thea.” Felicity was not ready to have both Queen siblings teaming up against her. 

Thea looked back to Felicity, and Felicity realized that Oliver and his sister had the same way of setting their shoulders when they were about to refuse to back down. Thea spoke to Felicity, “Rule number one of dating my brother, let him buy your clothes. Rule number two, always take my advice.”

Felicity wondered aloud, “Is there a rule number three?”

Thea answered immediately, “Follow rule number two.”

Oliver actually chuckled at his sister’s rule, and responded to Thea with amusement, “Felicity will have my card. When are you guys going shopping?”

“Wednesday. Let’s start with lunch.” Thea replied to Oliver. Again Thea spoke with the certainty that Felicity was going to listen to her. 

Felicity was going to disagree and opened her mouth to do so when she realized that Oliver sounded relieved about them spending time together and had started to relax when Thea asked Felicity about her dress. Maybe he was more worried about them getting along than he had admitted. Clearly, his sister meant the world to him, and Sara had said that Thea could be difficult and didn’t usually like new people in her life. 

Felicity made up her mind quickly, “I’ll take the afternoon off.”

Thea did smile finally, “Perfect. I’ll pick you up a QC.” Thea put her mug in the sink, but Oliver of course had to have the last word. 

“She has a security detail, Thea,” said Oliver.

Thea groaned, “Not my first rodeo brother. I’ll clear it with Sara. Okay, Roy and I are going to watch some horrible superhero movie. You guys want to join?”

“Not this time.” Oliver answered, and Felicity nodded her agreement. 

“Right-o! Well remember beds are more comfortable than couches.” quipped Thea as she left the kitchen.

“THEA!” Oliver roared.

Thea retorted from the hallway, “I meant for sleeping. Duh!” 

Oliver shook his head slightly, but let Thea have the last word. Once Felicity was sure that Thea was out of earshot she started to laugh. 

“Promise me your sister never ever meets my grandmother.” Felicity demanded, only half joking. Oliver’s eyes widened slightly at the mere idea of Thea and Baba in the same place. 

“I don’t think North America would survive,” Felicity said as she released Oliver’s hand now that his color was back to normal and his eyes calmed to their normal hardness, instead the special type of annoyance that Thea seemed to bring out in him. 

“Thea is an experience.” Oliver replied, as he took Felicity’s mug and picked up Thea’s from where she left it sink and added both of them to the dishwasher. 

“That’s one way to put it.” 

Oliver laughed, “What you mean is we all spoiled her rotten, and now she is an ungodly terror.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have said that exactly. She is a little bossy.” Oliver laughed again, but didn't disagree. Felicity tapped her fingers and wished that she had a computer to fiddle with instead. She found the courage to say what was bothering her though. “Thea didn’t seem really surprised to walk in on you and me...well you know what she walked in on.”

Oliver came over to where she was sitting and leaned against the counter, near enough that she could feel his comforting heat, but far enough away to not force himself into her space. “It hasn’t happened in a while, but my mother liked to use her as a cute way to interrupt my girlfriend and me when I was a teenager.”

“The open door wasn’t enough?” Felicity asked.

“Not really,” answered Oliver as he kicked at a nonexistent dust bunny. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” He was clearly referring to their make out session before Thea interrupted them. 

Felicity replied hesitantly, “Not really. I mean I think we are both adults who are free to make adult choices...But, it’s more complicated than that too.”

Oliver kicked at the nonexistent dust bunny’s equally invisible friend and responded quietly, “I don’t want you to think that you have to do anything in return-”

“I don’t think that at all.” Felicity said firmly, and she really hoped that he could tell that she was being perfectly sincere. She truly didn’t think that he expected anything from her in return for his help. If anything she thought that he realized their attraction to each other made the situation more complicated. 

“It’s just that there is a lot else going on and we were moving really fast,” she explained.

Oliver nodded, “We still haven’t been on a date, and I do want to go on a date with you. I am out of town for the rest of the week and Friday we have the benefit, but do you want to go to dinner and a movie or something on Saturday?”

Oliver actually sounded like he was worried that she might say no. Even after she had practically ripped his clothing off, he still seemed to think that she might not want to spend time with him. 

Felicity answered without hesitation, “That sounds lovely. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.” Oliver literally beamed at her words. “Where are you going?”

“Meetings at STAR Labs, and then Los Angeles. We are looking at sites for the new QC building. I’ll be home late Thursday.” Oliver explained.

“Zacharov is in LA. Both Deda and Makstim think that he is planning something.” Felicity mused. 

She assumed Oliver knew that Zacharov had been one of Deda’s enforcers years ago. Zacharov had wanted to be Deda’s heir, and when it became clear Deda would never trust the Bratva to him, he left and became the second in Los Angeles. 

Oliver studied the clean counter, like he wanted to avoid this conversation, but he did speak. “I agree with them.” He did not say anything else. 

Felicity took a deep breath and counted to ten before she spoke, “Is that why you are going to LA?”

“No, the trip was scheduled weeks ago.” Oliver’s voice was less full, and more clipped than when he normally spoke to her. 

Felicity didn’t think that he would lie about something that she could so easily check, but his answer wasn’t reassuring. “I’m sure the trip is not new,” she responded with deliberate care to sound normal, and not angry. 

Felicity wondered if the exact agenda had changed now that Oliver had made himself her protector. It would explain his tone, and short answer. She did not like the idea that he was going to meet with Zacharov. Felicity might be the target, but if Oliver insisted on putting himself between her and danger there was a good chance he would get hurt.

Felicity added as an aside, “Zacharov wanted to marry my mother.”

Oliver looked at her with genuine surprise, “I didn’t know that.” 

Felicity nodded. She wasn’t sure how many people in the Bratva remembered. Donna had been indifferent to his flirtation when she was a teenager, though flattered by the attention. Deda had been livid. Zakharov was fifteen years Donna’s senior. Even if his interest had been sincere, it was certainly inappropriate. Baba had been the one who insisted that Zakharov could not stay in Brighton Beach. Felicity had always assumed that Baba would have preferred to deal with Zakharov in a more permanent fashion, but Baba was satisfied when Zakharov moved to LA. 

“Please be safe while you are there.” Felicity tried not sound sappy while making the request. She was sure that Oliver knew how dangerous Zakharov was, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. 

Oliver grinned. It was clear to Felicity that he liked knowing she cared about him. He assured, “Absolutely, I wouldn’t want to miss the benefit on Friday, particularly you wearing the dress I am buying.” 

His hand found hers on the countertop, and Felicity made a mental note to find a dress that would make him happy to be home.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unbetad. And in case I haven't said it recently, I didn't create Arrow, Oliver Queen, etc. and I don't own any of those details.

“Wine!” Felicity begged Daniel as she entered the Queen family’s sitting room. He laughed and followed her command, pouring a large glass of red wine and handed it to her as she sat on the couch next to him. She had the strong urge to chug the full glass after Dan handed it to her, and Felicity barely managed to sip it like the vintage deserved. 

“Fee, if you are going to guzzle it like cheap wine I would’ve brought something less awesome.” Daniel said, managing to sound just enough like Baba to make Felicity pause. She must not have resisted the urge to chug quite as well as she thought that she had based on Daniel’s reaction. Felicity sighed, and took another long drink and kicked off her heels before answering. The heels were perfect for her outfit, but had been a horrible choice for her shopping trip.

“You didn’t have to go shopping with Thea Queen,” she told Daniel. “Trust me, you would chug wine afterwards too.”

“You were out shopped?” Daniel sounded genuinely awed. He followed her lead and neatly unlaced his Ferragamos to reveal baby blue socks with prancing unicorns. 

“Shut up! I am not that bad.” Felicity spoke with mock outrage. She was a pretty excellent shopper, and had the endurance of crazed discount seeker with a binder full of coupons. Daniel generally relied on his personal shopper to keep his closet stocked. He did not understand the high Felicity got when she found the perfect skirt or the cutest shoes. He loved clothes as a way to signal his influence and irk his mother, but he didn’t share Felicity’s passion for the pursuit of sartorial perfection.

Daniel wrinkled his nose, but didn’t say anything to disagree with her. They both knew she could hold her own at the mall and that he was an amateur in comparison. Felicity changed the subject, “Also those socks might be too gay even for you.”

“I had lunch with my mother,” Daniel frowned as he explained. “I figured it would be easier if she berated me about my socks then asked what you were up too. Why were you shopping with Thea?”

Felicity rubbed her sore feet, which only made her miss Oliver and his truly excellent fingers more. She told Daniel about her agreeing to go to the benefit, and Thea’s insistence that she needed a new dress. Felicity had spent the afternoon following Thea to every high end boutique in the greater vicinity of Starling City. Aside from making Felicity try on dozens of dresses and rejecting even more, Thea had used their six hours together to expertly question Felicity about the Bratva. 

Most of her questions had been broad enough that Felicity was able to answer with generalities that wouldn’t cause any problems if Thea repeated them carelessly. Some of her answers were probably things that Oliver would prefer his little sister didn’t know about, but Thea was an adult and those hadn’t been the hard questions she asked. Thea had cleverly snuck in more specific questions and then clearly noted when Felicity was avoiding something so she could find other ways to ask Felicity about it later. It had been a very enjoyable and generally amusing interrogation, but it had been six hours of tireless questioning that would have made Sophie proud. 

The hardest questions to answer were the ones about Felicity’s own experience in the Bratva. Thea realized that Felicity’s position was more than just a random enforcer’s daughter, and Oliver’s sister kept trying to figure out if Felicity really was a Bratva princess. Felicity sighed with pent up exhaustion from ducking those questions. 

“Thea was curious about my family,” she explained to Daniel at the end. 

Daniel refilled her glass without her asking. He knew she was going to need more wine after hours of questions on that topic. Daniel looked at their glasses, and observed, “This is going to be a whine Wednesday isn’t it?” 

Felicity nodded because she could hear the “H” in whine. Tonight was not going to be about the wine they drank, but the venting that she needed to do. Daniel continued, “What did you tell her?”

“A few stories about Deda and Baba.” Felicity shrugged her shoulders, and added more. “Some other bare facts. Thea doesn’t need the whole gruesome tale.” 

Daniel nodded and replied. “At this point I think ninety percent of the gossip about your family is just that gossip.”

“Yeah, but the ten percent that is true is the kicker.” Felicity said grimly. She really didn’t want to talk about things that had happened before she was even born so she changed the subject again. “Thanks for agreeing to whining out here.” 

Daniel looked pretty comfortable in the Queen’s family sitting room, probably a reflection on his own privileged upbringing. She was the one who found the casual opulence disconcerting. Her mother’s apartment, with its view of a corner liquor store and an unmaintained parking lot, would probably fit in Queen Manor several hundred times. Felicity assumed that Raisa had told Daniel to make himself at home, and that she supplied cheese and cracker platter that Felicity was now enjoying. 

“No worries. Josh wanted to borrow my place to play Magic with some friends anyway,” said Daniel, as he helped himself to more cheese. 

Felicity appreciated that Daniel was willing to put the blame on Josh, but their hanging out at the Queen Manor was a concession to Sara’s concerns about security at Daniel’s loft. Felicity assumed it was really Oliver’s concerns, and that Sara was acquiescing to her boss’s worries. Either way the end result was the same. Felicity had requested that they spend their Wednesday night in Oliver’s house instead of either of their homes. 

“Do you ever feel like you and Josh are from different planets?” Felicity asked. She wonder this on a pretty regular basis. Josh wasn’t a bad guy, and he was very clearly into Daniel, but the two men weren’t very similar. 

Daniel laughed, “Everyday. But his planet seems like a nice enough place. No Bratva there.”

“Point, set and match.” she conceded. Daniel raised his wine glass to acknowledge her concession. Felicity gestured a his laptop and the files that Daniel was reading when he waited for her to get back from shopping while asking. “What are you working on?”

Daniel answered, “It’s a project for you. I am making a spreadsheet of the other captains to determine who is most likely to to cause problems.”

“First, by ‘might cause problems’ you mean kidnap me, right? And, second, a spreadsheet?”

Daniel chuckled with his general good humor, “Kind of surprised you didn’t lead with the spreadsheet comment. I’ve shared the file with you, and here are some hard copies.” 

“Let me go get my laptop. This is going to be a working whine, isn’t?” Felicity asked. 

“No rest for the wicked or the Bratva.” Daniel did not watch her leave because his precious spreadsheet was calling.

When Felicity returned with her computer, Daniel walked her through his analysis. She recognized some of the names, and knew most of the important details about them, but Daniel’s notes were exhaustive. He knew who needed money to support an expensive mistress, who grumbled about Deda’s rules, and who though Oliver was a spoiled outsider playing at Bratva.

“Did you do all of this since Monday?” Felicity was a bit awed. She knew Daniel kept tabs on his father’s business, but his knowledge was clearly more extensive than she would’ve expected. 

“I had a fair bit of this already, and Cash helped.” Daniel responded modestly.

“Won’t that make you father angry?” Felicity asked with genuine concern for Cash. Maksim wasn’t exactly known for being flexible when it came to his personal code, and loyalty was a quality he demanded in himself and from anyone who worked for him. She thought there was a strong possibility that Maksim would view Cash helping Felicity as a betrayal. 

“Probably, but Cash doesn’t care, and my father realizes that Cash is his golden goose.” Daniel paused and took a sip of wine. Felicity noticed only because it was one of Daniel’s few tells that he was thinking about withholding information. After a second sip he continued, “I think Maksim will deal with it because he knows that we are the best chance of keeping Zakharov from becoming pakhan.” 

Felicity sighed. Zakharov was a problem and Maksim detested the man. She wasn’t sure that she liked being the lesser of two evil. If Zakharov did seize her grandfather’s position, either by marrying her or an outright war, it would not bode well for Maksim or anyone else Felicity cared about.

Daniel ignored Felicity’s grimace and concluded, “Anyway, Cash will be ecstatic to hear that you are concerned about his safety.” 

Felicity laughed slightly at Daniel’s teasing, “Still weirds me out that he has a crush on me. I never even met him before Saturday.”

“I think it started with something to do with some hacking stuff that you did years ago?” Daniel shrugged and kept talking. “ I don’t know, but I will say this, I am pretty sure he wants you for your brain.”

“That honestly makes the whole thing weirder.” 

“Yeah, Cash is a weird guy. What do you know about Hugh Babikov?” Daniel asked, returning to testing her Bratva knowledge.

“He is an enforcer in Atlanta...Nashville?” Felicity guessed. Daniel shook his head at each of the things that she said. She tried another answer, “Uh, he does something Bratva related south of the mason-dixon line?”

Daniel rolled his eyes at her hedging. “Correct only in so much as that was too vague to be wrong.”

“Help me Obi-Wan. You’re my only hope,” implored Felicity. She was mostly joking, but she was realizing that if she was going to survive the Bratva while retaining some modicum of her independence it was going to be with Daniel’s help. 

Daniel took her request at face value and started to walk her through the various Bratva chapters in the US. His method was very detailed, and not based on geography so much as power, available resources, and apparent leadership issues. He had already prioritized the captains likeliest to try and succeed Leo through underhand methods, and made sure to cover all of them in unrelenting exactitude. 

Like his father and Deda, he put Zakharov at the list of people likely to make a play for pakhan through Felicity. Even before Daniel’s briefing she had been inclined to agree with all three of them that Zakharov was a problem. 

Felicity's few encounters with him had been marked by violence, cruelty, and a generally creepiness that made her gag slightly every time she said his name. She still never understood why her grandfather had recruited him, and tolerated his temper for so long. By the time Felicity was born Zakharov had moved to Los Angeles and unseated its old captain. 

Violence was a part of the Bratva, but it also wasn’t the backbone of what they did. Unlike the Mafia, the Bratva wasn’t known for dabbling in contract hits. Most captains were above making money by physically intimidating local businesses to pay for protection. The Bratva’s common goal was to make money by any means necessary. In large part that meant by selling goods on the black market. In Russia the Bratva made their money by selling goods that were impossible to find because of embargoes during the Cold War. Russia was switching models to undercutting the legitimate market like the Bratva in the US.

Deda was able to get cigarettes at the quarter of the price as a local bodega in the city, and he had a highly developed distribution system that got those cigarettes into the hands of street hawkers who then sold them well below the legal market price. They gave a cut to Deda because they knew if they shorted him, he would just stop selling them cigarettes. Effectively he would put them out of business. It was economic intimidation at its best, so Deda rarely had to resort to anything as unseemly as breaking someone’s legs to make his point. 

And cigarettes was only one of the dozens of goods that Deda sold on the black market. In large part Deda’s operation relied on the fact that he controlled the ports in New York and North Jersey, and accordingly he could smuggle goods in without paying taxes or needing to prove that the good had not been stolen. Felicity was still stunned by the number of shipping containers that got “lost” and found their way to Leo’s warehouses. 

Zakharov had a similar set-up in Los Angeles, but he didn’t focus on the same goods as Deda who liked to sell tennis shoes, knockoff designer handbags, cell phones, cigarettes, and medical devices. Deda’s felt after 9/11 that security at ports was too strong to flirt with disaster by focusing on bringing drugs and guns. He did it occasionally if the money was too good to pass up, or he was sure that he could bribe the right people to look the other way. Zakharov did not share Leo’s caution. If you were willing to pay his price, Zakharov would figure out how to get whatever you wanted past the authorities and into the country. 

Felicity knew that he worked with the Mexican cartels to move meth and cocaine into the US, and she assumed that he also brought in pharmaceutical drugs too. Their market value was insane and Zakharov was always looking to make the most money that he could. Felicity had never been able to figure out all of what Zakharov was smuggling into the United States though. His operation was intentionally opaque, and that had always made her uncomfortable. Drugs were one things, but there were lots of other, scarier things, that people wanted to get past the authorities. 

Deda didn’t like it either, and Zakharov knew that. He also knew that Deda couldn’t do much about it. Pakhans didn’t have much control over what captains did in their own wards. Pakhans main function was to deal with problems that were bigger than one Bratva cell. Deda’s power allowed him to settle disputes between captains, which happened pretty regularly. The other main part of Deda’s office was to punish a captain that did anything that endangered the Bratva, like talking to the FBI or losing a turf war with the Triad. It was assumed that a captain would take care of anyone under him who made that mistake. 

As long as a captain didn’t do anything that was dangerous to the Bratva overall Deda did not have the ability to tell them how to do their jobs or run their wards. If Deda did tell a captain to stop trafficking in drugs, or how to handle issues with street level enforcers, Deda would lose the support of the other captains. Felicity knew their support was Deda’s real source of power as pakhan. Overall the captains trusted Deda to only use his power when it was an issue that involved the whole Bratva. As a result, Deda couldn’t get involved in Zakharov’s internal operations--not if he wanted to stay pakhan.

As Daniel discussed the captains, their actual revenue sources, their staff, and their relationships with other captains, Felicity stated to see a pattern.

“You’re grouping them based on their support of Deda aren’t you?” she observed.

Dan paused from his discussion of Chicago’s captain, “Not just their support of Deda, but their willingness to support his heir apparent.”

Felicity scrunched her nose because Daniel’s statement did not compute. “This whole situation is because Deda doesn’t have an heir. And you can’t think that Oliver wants to be pakhan.”

Even if Oliver did want to be pakhan, and Felicity was sure that he did not, she wasn’t sure that he would be a good one. He had the charisma, and certainly the strength, but she was being to suspect that his personal love and loyalty to people combined with a truly impressive obstinate streak wasn’t a good fit with the role. Deda was above and beyond all else pragmatic. The one time that his personal feelings had gotten in the way of him doing what was necessary had almost cost him his office. 

It had cost him his daughter.

Deda was brilliant and clever at getting what he wanted, but what he wanted was defined by what was pragmatically best for the Bratva. As a result, Deda could and would end a friendship or seek help from an enemy. 

Being pakhan required a certain willingness to be flexible with the means used to achieve an outcome and being open to hurting individuals to realize a goal. She wasn’t sure that Oliver had that in him. There was something about his darker moments that made her believe that he was capable of doing whatever was necessary, as long as it didn’t conflict with his love for his family. 

His decision to keep information from Thea was because he wanted to protect her. He left Russia to find his father’s killer. All of this made Felicity think that there were a handful of people the Oliver put before anything else including the Bratva. 

“I am not talking about Oliver. The smart captains--like my father, think that Leo does have an heir apparent.” Dan sighed, which Felicity assumed was because Dan found it frustrating that Maksim could be both brilliant and stupid in the same breath. Daniel next comment was more pondering, “I am not sure if Leo realizes it yet. Your grandfather is a smart son of a bitch, so this just might be his plan all along.”

Felicity did have to agree with Daniel’s description of Leo. Dan was no slouch when it came to clever ideas and well executed plans, and he tended to be awed by Leo’s strategic thinking. Daniel liked to visit Leo just to play chess, even though he had never beaten Deda at it and they had played hundreds of games. Even more embarrassingly to Dan, when they played over the phone, Deda often did the New York Times crossword puzzle at the same time. 

Felicity did not like to play chess with her grandfather, she preferred to play cards with both her grandparents. When they played poker or gin, which she was better at and Deda less adept, she still had to use all of her concentration to have a chance at beating him. Sophie didn’t usually try to win. Instead she liked to make it hard for Felicity to win. The result was that Felicity was constantly playing both offensively and defensively. Between the two of them Felicity usually had her hands full. 

One time, when Sophie and Leo visited her in Boston, they had played a game of bridge with Dan and Felicity. Deda had looked at his cards twice, bid perfectly to become the declarer, gotten up to take an urgent phone call, returned looked at the dummy’s hand for three seconds and played a small slam. Dan still talked about it being one of the best played hands he had ever seen, and his maternal grandmother was an internationally ranked bridge player. Sophie, who had been the dummy, just beamed at Leo the whole time he schooled the grandkids. 

Dan was right. It was impossible to know exactly what her grandfather was thinking or planning at any given moment. And considering that Sophie usually helped Deda with his plans, Felicity figured she and Daniel were simply outclassed. 

“Does his heir at least know?” Felicity asked, and let some annoyance slip through. This whole situation at best was an inconvenience in her life. In reality it was a weird mash up of russian roulette and The Bachelorette. Unlike the tv show, the eligible men would kill for the opportunity of marrying her and she didn’t get much choice on who survived long enough to give her a rose. 

Daniel did not answer. He just looked up at her, and arched an eyebrow. Any other time Felicity would have laughed at the cliche of his behavior, but at the moment she was too stunned by the implication of that single eyebrow.

“But, I am woman!”

There were other reasons that she couldn’t be pakhan, but her gender was the first and most obvious one that came to mind.

“So? It is 2015,” Daniel declared. 

Felicity actually sputtered slightly, “It might be 2015 for the rest of the world, but the Bratva is different. You’re not really part of the Bratva because you’re gay!”

Daniel sighed like he was explaining a very simple concept to a small child who refused to understand. “Is that because of the Bratva or because of my father?”

Felicity paused and thought about it for a moment. Daniel had proven that he could make money. His pending deal with Bertenalli was only the most recent example of his ability to combine the benefits of an illegal operation with the resources of legal investments. Deda thought Daniel was intelligent, loyal, and hardworking and it seemed like Cash agreed. If those two thought Dan was worth listening to than others in the Bratva would also think so. 

Deda and Cash’s respect should have opened doors for Daniel with other captains. It wasn’t unusual that captains’ sons worked for other captains. It was a good way to build relationships, and to prove the sons were competent enough to lead to the rest of the Bratva. Basically, it was a way for those sons to advance their possibility of inheriting from their father because in the Bratva no one was ever guaranteed to inherit their father’s position. 

The Bratva’s culture was pragmatic enough to favor the idea of the most competent son inheriting not necessarily the oldest. It wasn’t unheard of for a nephew or trusted and brilliant lieutenant to inherit. Deda wouldn’t lend his support to a captain’s heir unless it was clear that the heir was going to do a good job. Internally most enforcers wouldn’t support a heir unless it was clear that he would continue to increase the Bratva’s profits, and not be crazy difficult to work for. The Bratva’s macho culture wouldn’t look kindly on Daniel being gay, but the other captains would certainly ignore it if Daniel made them money. If he proved he was as tough as their best enforcers, the captains would probably welcome his boyfriends with open arms.

Daniel was exactly the type of man that any captain would invite to work for them. The only problem was that offering Daniel a position would earn Maksim’s ire. As competent as Daniel was, Maksim was too powerful to have as an enemy just because his son worked for you. Even Deda thought twice before he stepped on Maksim’s toes. 

“Its because of your father.” Felicity thought about how to put it before she continued, “Your point, I take it, is basically the captains will accept me as Leo’s heir if I prove I am tough enough and it’s clear that I will fill their pockets faster than any other option.”

“I wouldn’t go so far to say accept, but yes I think they would tolerate you better than you think if they realized how good of pakhan you would be.” 

Felicity had heard Daniel’s banker voice before. She had been his date a few time to client functions and watched him subtly convince smart and suspicious people to trust him with their money and their companies. His voice didn’t exactly change and it didn’t sound like he was selling anything, but somehow he made himself more compelling and trustworthy when talking to a client. By the time Daniel was done with them, the clients wanted the privilege of calling him their banker and they were equally certain that he would make them the most money. 

Something about Daniel’s words made her think that she was his new target, or rather selling her to the captains was his new project that needed investors. 

“You think I would be a good pakhan, don’t you?” She was genuinely surprised to realize that Daniel had come up with this harebrained idea because he believed that she could hold Leo’s office.

“Of course, I do. You haven’t thought about it?” Now Daniel sounded surprised. 

“Of course not. I barely understand the Bratva, I mean I understand how to steal money and use the Bratva to hide it, and I understand how to use the Bratva to buy black market military grade surveillance equipment. But that is all stuff I do for Deda from my living room while I wear my Cookie Monster slippers. That’s not anything that mean I am prepared to be pakhan!”

“Really?” Daniel pointed at the tables he had been reviewing with her. “You might not know the specifics of the captain’s operations or exactly who works for them, but if I asked you who had the most cash available--

“Gus Bakula”

“Or who was leaking information to the FBI--

“Duv Pozniak.” Felicity gasped, “Forget I said that--

Daniel had not looked surprised when Felicity immediately supplied Duv’s name. “I wasn’t sure who it was, but Deda knows and is feeding the bureau misinformation through him, isn’t he?”

Felicity nodded because everything that Daniel said was true. “How did you know?”

“That someone was feeding bad information to the FBI?” Felicity nodded so Daniel continued, “Dad has an inside man.”

“Wait! Your father has someone in the FBI? How does Deda not know that!” Felicity’s voice wasn’t the only part of her to flail at the information. She almost poured out the glass of wine she was holding, and she did manage to kick her computer off the couch. 

Daniel laughed at her ungraceful response to his statement. “Dad helped him out of a bind a few years ago. He won’t actually do anything illegal, but he keeps dad apprised of the information that the FBI is working with. Clearly based on what he said, someone pretty high up in the Bratva is narcing, but Dad never figured out who. Or really cared since it was clear that most of the information was wrong. He assumed Leo was on top of it.” Daniel paused and took a sip of wine. “Anyway you are proving my point. Your biggest concern is that Dad has someone inside the FBI and that he hasn’t shared that information with Leo isn’t it?”

Felicity nodded because it was her biggest concern. She was pretty inclined to trust that Maksim was not going to turn informer like the weevil, Duv, but any relationship with an FBI agent invited trouble and Deda deserved a heads up on that. 

Felicity returned to the main subject, “I don’t understand what you are saying.”

Daniel studied his fingers while he thought about how to explain it to her. “Look, the stuff you don’t know are details. They matter but I bet there are things that Leo doesn’t make an effort to remember. He has you and Stan to do that. And anyone can learn these details, or find seconds to handle it. They can’t learn the other stuff.”

“The other stuff?”

Daniel made a generally vague movement with his hands like she should know what he meant. Felicity wrinkled her forehead and shook her head slightly. 

Daniel sighed with more drama than was strictly necessary, “You’re pragmatic, smart, you trust your gut, and are not easily scared. You listen to people who are smarter than you are and you admit when you are wrong. You’re loyal, but not to an extreme level of stupidity, and you like to win just a little too much.”

“I do not!” 

Felicity would never say that she cared about winning. She generally thought that she wasn’t even competitive. Lucy had tried to convince Felicity to run a 5K race their junior year. Lucy made a training plan that involved the slower runner doing the dishes. Felicity had committed to the plan for all of three runs before she decided it was a waste of her time. She really didn’t care about beating Lucy since doing the dishes wasn’t that horrible. So she figured it made more sense to tell Lucy she would do the dishes every night Lucy went for a run. Lucy still got her motivation to train because she hated doing the dishes. Then when Lucy was out of the apartment running Felicity had silence for studying. It had been a perfect solution. 

Felicity had not pushed for them to hack the student debt records when she was at MIT. That had been Cooper’s idea, and it was his need to beat the system that drove their efforts. She enjoyed the challenge of it all, but she felt no commitment the goal. She could have walked away without ever getting into the secured information and had not cared at all. 

“Felicity you are possibly the most competitive person I have ever met, and Maksim Gagarin is my father.” Daniel said with amusement, but he didn’t actually laugh at her statement. His voice was firm and there was an edge under his friendly amusement, like he thought that she was trying to lie to him.

Felicity disagreed, “I’m really not competitive. I could care less about winning when we play board games with Josh, and I can’t even name a professional sports team.”

Daniel ticked his points off on his fingers. “First, being a fan of sports has nothing to do with being competitive. Second, we play board games because you think they are stupid and thus don’t get scary. Josh is the one of us who is not competitive and can’t handle it when you and I are out to win. Remember the only time we tried to play rummy?”

Felicity did remember it. She had gotten a new boss at QC who wrote her off as soon as he learned her gender. She might have been able to deal with his misogyny if he had been any good at his job, but that wasn't the case. He made every issue worse, and then never thanked her when she dealt with both the original issue, and his mess. 

On top of that, Sophie had been pestering her right before she went to Daniel’s because Felicity wasn’t going to New York for Rosh Hashanah. Felicity really needed the big glass of wine that Daniel served as soon as she arrived and she justified the next two glasses because she could walk home. 

She truly believed that her behavior that night was a reflection on the wine and her frayed nerves. Josh, who played in regular poker game suggested the play for cash, instead of Daniel’s preferred M&Ms. Felicity had agreed, which in hindsight had been her mistake. Each time she won a hand and racked up a few more points she felt a bit better about her douche boss and about her grandmother’s guilt trip. She knew that she gloated, and maybe rubbed it in tad too much when she walloped both the boys. 

That she used her winnings the next day to buy a new pair of shoes and she sent Daniel and Josh pictures of them with the message, “Thanks for feeding my shoe fund!” was probably unnecessary. Josh had missed the next three wine wednesdays. Felicity actually made him apology cupcakes at Daniel’s suggestion even though she never did understand what she did wrong.

Felicity considered, and said, “I might be a sore loser, but I am not really competitive.”

“That’s a crock of shit and you know it,” retorted Daniel. 

“Let’s agree to disagree. You said the smart captains, like your father. Who else thinks that I can be Leo’s heir?” Felicity said, changing the subject. 

It was weird enough to consider that Maksim thought she could be pakhan. If it wasn’t for his behavior on Saturday, she would totally discount Daniel’s statement. But, there had been something about how Maksim acknowledged her at the end of their encounter that made Felicity believe that he thought she was his equal. It was just enough to make her believe Daniel. 

“Anna Brown, or more likely her brother. He recognizes strong women.” Felicity laughed. He would after years of basically being his sister’s straw man. Daniel kept going, “Stan Morrison--

“He’s not a captain.”

“He’s Leo’s second. I think that counts.”

Felicity conceded Dan’s point with half shrug of her shoulders. He was right that Stan was essentially the same as a captain for all that he was Leo’s second. She knew he respected her and trusted her. In the last year he had started to bring small problems to her before going to Leo. Most of the time Felicity could deal with it and save Leo the time and energy. At the time, Felicity assumed Stan was doing it because Leo was so busy, but she now she wondered if he did it because Leo was getting sick and couldn’t manage everything. 

Felicity looked at Daniel. “That is only three counting your father. It’s barely a tenth of the captains in the US. And I would need support from captains aboard too.”

Felicity realized as soon as she spoke that her words implied that she might be considering Daniel’s farfetched idea. The implication was unintentional or at least subconscious. In the years since she walked into that tea house with a bad blonde dye job she had imagined many futures but never one where she became pakhan. 

Daniel had an answered ready. “Pavel Kozak will absolutely support you.”

“Why? I have never met him.”

“You danced with his son Greg.”

“Twice.”

Dan ignored Felicity’s tone of disbelief and continued, “You left an impression. Greg says you are the best parts of Leo and Sophie combined with world class computer skills. He is also basically running his dad’s operation, and the old man trusts his opinion about you.”

Felicity didn’t remember much about her dances with Greg other than he was exceedingly polite, sort of uncoordinated, and had a posh British boarding school accent. Both times Daniel had been out of town, and Greg was in Boston for business. The second time he invited her out for a cup of tea afterwards. He had held open doors for her and insisted on paying, which was sweet. He asked intelligent questions about her classes and seemed to be genuinely interested, but none of it saved him from being ten years her senior and a little boring. 

It was the closest Baba ever came to successfully setting Felicity up with one her dance partners. Even if there was no spark with Greg, his respect and support was worth that mediocre date. 

Felicity pondered Daniel’s comment, “I hadn’t realized. I mostly just thought he was a little awkward and shy. That’s still not exactly a solid base of support.”

“Really? Because Greg might be boring, but he is also Alex Dragov’s nephew, and his wife is George Savvin’s daughter.”

Felicity nodded, “I vaguely remembered Baba saying that he got married, but I hadn’t realized that his father-in-law was the head of Bratva in France or that his uncle was a captain.”

“Yeah, and I think that they will both listen to Greg on this. It helps that they despise Zakharov.”

The pattern that kept coming up was that Zakharov was the biggest problem to her safety. Somewhat because he was unscrupulous, but more importantly because he wanted the power and privilege of being pakhan. It made sense that if she did come out as a candidate she was going to have to defeat him to actually hold Leo’s throne. 

Felicity couldn’t believe they were talking like she might be considering this. “Even if I can shore up actual supporters, I am not a captain. At a certain point my resources are limited and I am not actually one of Leo’s seconds.”

Dan waived away that concern, “You have Oliver’s support and all the resources that entails. And its technicality that you aren’t Leo’s second. You at like what you do for Deda is just a hobby, but we both know that he has relied on you more than anyone else since you finished school. No one really cares about that if it’s clear that you can do the job.”

Daniel was right that what she did for Deda was more than just some causal hacking. Felicity chewed her lip because it was the first thing that Daniel said that she was concerned about.“I don’t know that I have Oliver’s support.”

She had spoken to him last night before she went to bed. Most of the conversation had been about how much Harrison Wells annoyed him during their meeting, and some about her day. It had been exceedingly normal and just nice to listen to him complain about work. They did not talk about what happened in the study on Monday. The closest either of them got to mentioning it was when Oliver told her that he wished he was there to kiss her goodnight before he hung up. 

She was less confused about his feelings for her than she had been before Monday, but she still had no idea what he thought about her sucking him farther into the Bratva. It was hard to forget that he was willing to ruin his relationship with his sister to keep Thea safe. Felicity being here put Thea in danger and made it harder for Oliver to find who murdered his father. If Felicity did decided to try and inherit Leo’s office this would all only get worse. As much as Oliver was attracted to her, she wasn’t sure that it made him want to support her advancing in the Bratva. 

Daniel started to speak, but Felicity cut him off. She didn’t want to reduce her feelings for Oliver to a list of the ways that being with him would help her. She knew that there were good reasons for her to pursue Oliver, but she wanted her feelings for him to be honest and develop organically--not because she wanted something from him. “Anyway can we talk about something else? Pretend that this is a normal whine Wednesday?” Felicity asked very plaintively. 

Daniel closed his laptop and answered,“Sure we can. Tell me all about the dress you got. Actually first tell me about the ugliest dress you tried on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I always love to hear what you guys think of how this story is going. Also, there have been several questions about whether I am on twitter, DW, tumblr, etc. I really don't use ever use anything, but i put some more info in my profile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd so please let me know if you catch any typos or grammar issues. I always appreciate it.

“My clutch is not that bad,” Felicity exclaimed. 

Thea turned and looked back at Felicity, “I am going to ignore that you said that because your Jimmy Choos are excellent.”

Felicity followed Thea into her bedroom. Thea had come by Felicity’s room after dinner on Thursday to see if Felicity had everything she would need to get ready for the benefit. Felicity had told the younger woman that she would have plenty of time to do her hair and makeup after work. Thea’s response was some serious side eye and to let Felicity know that a makeup artist and hair stylist would be at the manor at 5:30 tomorrow. Thea had then insisted on reviewing Felicity’s chosen accessories since she had refused to buy a new clutch or shoes for the benefit. 

Thea quickly approved the shoes. The clutch was a different story. Thea literally gagged and then ordered Felicity to follow her to her room. 

“Good thing for you I have just the purse.” Thea commented more to herself than to Felicity. “Otherwise we would have to go shopping again tomorrow.” 

Thea disappeared through a door that Felicity assumed led to Thea’s closet. 

“You do realize I work for a living, right?” Felicity called towards where Thea had disappeared. Unsurprisingly, Thea did not respond. 

Felicity sat at Thea’s desk, rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. Her brain was tired and her eyes ached with a soreness that she knew was because she spent too much time staring at a computer screen. It wasn’t work that was sucking up her brain cells or her time right now though.

Since Oliver had left on his business trip early Tuesday, Felicity had spent most of her free time (and some of her time at the office) working on his dad’s notebook. It was easy to track down the manufacturer and the only store that sold them in Starling City. It was nice information to have, but pretty much useless for understanding what information Robert thought Oliver would find in the notebook. 

Felicity was at least trying to be productive even if she wasn’t having much success with the notebook. She scanned all the pages and created high quality images of each page that she saved onto a secure server. That way she could manipulate various parts of the notebook without damaging it. It made her feel a little bit better about carrying the notebook around while Oliver was gone. She was terrified that something would happen to it. Like she might trip on her way into the QC building and take a nosedive into one of the fountains in the lobby or spill coffee into her purse again. 

She also had spent several hours reading about how to preserve works on paper, as well as how historians and librarians studied old books and illuminated manuscripts. It was actually pretty fascinating how ink disappeared over time and the techniques to restore it. It was also possible that pages became stuck together over the years or that books were damaged by mold, pests, or light. There were different ways to try and restore a book after each of those types of damage. She also read about how information could be hidden in the books, like pasted between the cover and the binding. While none of it was particularly helpful, Felicity felt better prepared. She wasn’t use to working with information stored on actual paper.

Yesterday, before her shopping date with Thea, Felicity cajoled her way into QC’s applied science division. She didn’t even need to name drop that this was a special project for Oliver. It was pretty easy to convince the lab geeks to let her play with their toys since she joined their regular Dungeons and Dragons game once or twice a month. They also owed her a favor after she helped track down a guy who QC fired, and as payback was griefing their World of Warcraft group with his troll minions. It had taken her one bottle of wine and a quiet Thursday night to to hack the trolls accounts, and then give them a nice little bug that crashed their computers whenever they tried to log into the game. Ever since then the applied science geeks were always willing to help her out. It didn’t take much convincing to get them to assist her with a whole slew of tests based on her research.

The tests didn’t show anything, which was pretty much what she was expecting. It didn’t make the notebook any less befuddling. Robert Queen seemed like a pretty smart guy who understood business and how to run a multinational conglomerate. He did not seem like a superspy, or someone prone to the level of paranoia necessary to truly hide his secrets in the notebook. That said, Felicity was struggling to figure out what was in the notebook that was so important. 

Plus, Robert’s note to Oliver made it clear that he thought his son would be able to decipher the odd notations and random comments in the notebook. Felicity did not think that Robert was the type to overestimate his son’s intelligence or capabilities. Given at the time Robert wrote the note, Oliver was basically one step up from an entitled idiot, she truly believed they would be able to find the information hidden Robert’s book. 

After looking in detail at everything in the notebook, and rearranging the scanned pages so she could compare non-sequential pages that looked the same she did think that there was coded information in the notebook. There were multiple pages that she thought might be in a cypher, including that one she had pointed out to Oliver as looking like shipping log. Given that Robert was not a mathematician or computer programmer, Felicity was inclined to believe that he used a simple substitution cypher. It was possible that he used a more complicated transposition cypher, but the actual plaintext was not uniform enough to make it likely. She also thought that he would have needed to keep a key available if that was the case. It was likelier that he used a simple enough cypher that he could memorize the key. 

Felicity was focusing on those pages right now. She “borrowed” a simple program from the NSA that would analyze the actual letters and determine if Robert had used a cypher. It wasn’t perfect because his handwriting left something to be desired so the text recognition program screwed up with some of the letters. Hopefully she would have more to tell Oliver when he got back from his business trip. 

She still didn’t know what to do about the random blank pages dispersed throughout the notebook. While there was no pattern to which pages were blank, Felicity was sure that the decision to leave them blank was intentional. Most of the blank pages or blank portions were next to pages filled with cramped notes. She couldn’t figure out why Robert wouldn’t have filled in the blank pages unless he wanted them to stay empty. 

Felicity sighed to herself, and told herself to stop obsessing over the blank pages. They were a problem to deal with once she had figured out the cypher being used on the other pages. She at least knew where to start with that problem. Either way she was waiting for the program to finish its analysis and she should at least act like she was paying attention to Thea. 

Felicity opened her eyes, and rolled her tight shoulders. Since it sounded like Thea was still rifling through her closet, Felicity made herself at home. She gently spun around in Thea’s desk chair while she examined Thea’s room. It was substantially bigger than any room that Felicity had ever had as a child or as an adult. It was a pleasant dark gray and the furniture was far less ornate than the pieces in Felicity’s room. The desk and bookcases were solid simple pieces made out of real wood. Both had a few dinges, and she could see a few faded super ninja turtle stickers hiding in one corner of the bookcase so she guessed they had been used since Thea was a child. 

Instead, of the real paintings hanging in Felicity’s room, Thea’s walls had framed band posters, many with signatures from the musicians. Thea had shoved ticket concert stubs in several of the frames, or hung festival passes on the frames corners. It looked like Thea had a thing for rappers and classic rock bands. Eclectic taste, but not bad as far as Felicity was concerned. 

There were cork boards on the wall above the desk, which Thea had filled with ripped out pages from magazines, random ephemera, and old fashioned polaroids of she and her friends. Most of the pictures were pretty innocuous, but Felicity noticed one with what looked like cocaine on the low table in front of Thea, and another where Thea was flipping off whoever was taking the picture. 

Felicity’s attention shifted to the desk that was mostly covered in clothes and magazines. It did not look like Thea did a lot of work at the desk. In the mess there was a clear space the right size for a laptop, but it wasn’t there at the moment. Felicity wished it was there because after seeing the polaroids she suddenly wanted to check the security on all of Thea’s electronics. Felicity was sure that the young woman had photos on her phone that the gossip magazines would love to get a hold of and that would embarrass Thea. Felicity made a mental note to bring it up with Thea at some point. 

“FOUND IT!” Thea didn’t really need to yell. The closet wasn’t that far away from where Felicity was sitting, and Thea walked back into her room as she finished speaking anyway. Thea handed Felicity a small rhinestone covered clutch. The silver sparkles would pair well with the silver strappy shoes Thea had approved earlier, and it would be more interesting with the dress she bought yesterday than the black bag that Felicity had been planning on carrying. 

“Its very sparkly.” Felicity said. It was the first thing that popped into her head.

“I was fourteen when I bought it.” Thea shrugged her shoulders like that explained her decision. “At least sparkles are classic and neutral. Not really my style, but it is perfect for you.”

For all that she loved bright colors and flashy accessories, Felicity was not sure that she would have gone so far as to describe rhinestones as classic and neutral. She also wasn’t exactly sure what else to say about the clutch, though Thea looked like she was waiting for more of a reaction. Felicity flipped the bag around in her hands, and thought of something important. “Let me make sure my phone fits in it.”

Felicity pulled her phone out of her pocket, and clicked the clutch’s latch so it sprang open. Thea must have forgotten to clean it out last time she used it because there was a clean white sheet of heavy, expensive stationary folded up inside. Felicity handed the paper to Thea and put her phone inside. It fit, barely, and there wasn’t much room left, but she figured she didn’t need much more than her phone and some lipstick. Felicity snapped the clutch shut, and looked up to show Thea that the clutch would work. 

As soon as she looked up, Felicity knew something was wrong. Thea was staring at the paper in her hands and she hunched over like someone had punched her in the gut. As far as Felicity could tell, Thea seemed to greet the world with squared shoulders and a haughty gaze, like she was too stubborn to follow the masses and too well bred to lower herself to normal standards anyway. Felicity recognized a shared sense of hurt that usually was a result of bad choices and wounds inflicted by the people you loved most. Felicity hid the hurt behind blonde hair and bright colors. Thea used cutting remarks, and sharp judgments to distract people from noticing her scars. 

Now, though Thea’s shoulders were caved in and her eyes were haunted with grief that was not very well hidden. 

“What’s the matter?” Felicity felt inane asking, but she had no idea how a blank piece of paper had caused such a shift in mood, and Thea was clearly distressed. 

Thea unfolded the paper and smoothed out its cresses. “I bought that clutch for a dance my freshman year. I was suppose to go with Trevor Gardner. Dad was sad he was going to miss it. My first dance. I was thrilled that he had a trip. No embarrassing me or scaring my date. And he was taking Ollie so he couldn’t be a pain either.”

All of a sudden, Felicity knew what must have happened.

“But...I didn’t go,” Thea whispered. 

Thea stopped talking. She wouldn’t meet Felicity’s eyes, and she shrugged off the hand Felicity tried to place on her arm. Thea angrily brushed away the tears that were welling in her eyes and walked over to her bedside table. She rifled through the drawer before she found the lighter that she was looking for. Thea lit it, and brought the flame towards the paper like she was going to burn it. Felicity wasn’t sure if she should stop Thea before she set fire to the manor, but Thea stopped before the flame reached the page. 

“When I was eight I wanted to be a spy. Raisa thought it was silly, and Oliver was too obsessed with Laurel and busy failing out of college to care, but Dad loved the Bond movies and was totally game to play along. He got me a pen that was actually a camera and a bunch of other spy stuff for my birthday. My favorite was the invisible ink. I used it to write him notes that Ollie couldn’t read. He would hide notes for me too find too.” 

Thea started to pass the flame over the paper in steady sweeps, not so close that the page would catch on fire, but close enough for the heat to reveal writing. 

Felicity startled the moment that the first letter appeared in Robert Queen’s handwriting, and gasped with the realization that Thea had just solved one of the notebook’s mysteries.   
Thea didn’t notice Felicity’s reaction. She was too focused on slowly uncovering her father’s last message. Thea spoke as she worked, “He used different types of ink. I think he even had applied sciences develop a special one for him. Part of the game was for me to figure out how to reveal the message. Heat usually worked.”

Thea stopped when the whole message was readable. She took two deep breaths before she was able to speak, “Speedy, I’m sure you look beautiful. I wish I was there, but your mother promised to take pictures. Don’t forget that your curfew is still 11 PM. Have a great time! Love, Dad. P.S. Be sure to remind that boy about my extensive gun collection.”

Thea deflated even more as she read the message, and when she finished clenched her hands in fists and went rigid for an instant before she hurled the lighter across her room. Felicity flinched when it hit one of the framed posters and shattered the glass. Thea looked like she was ready to scream and throw something else, but she stopped herself when her eyes fell on Felicity who was still sitting at her desk.

“You must think I am a spoiled brat.”

“Why?” Felicity asked. “Because you are angry that life sucks sometimes? That just makes you human.” 

Thea sighed and sat on her bed. “Anyone who says that it will be better tomorrow, has never lost someone.”

Felicity nodded. Her father wasn’t dead, and she didn’t exactly mourn that he wasn’t around, but her anger and sadness that he had abandoned her came in irregular and unpredictable waves. Even if that didn’t give her some understanding of Thea’s feelings, Felicity had grown up with her mother. She remembered watching Donna cry because of a soup commercial with two brothers teasing their little sister, or sitting at the table on mornings when Donna made three cups of tea and let two grow cold. The only part of Thea’s display that Felicity found surprising was the actual force that she put into throwing the lighter and the rapid way she readjusted her aim to make sure she didn’t hit Felicity. 

“Thanks--

Thea was cut off by Roy and Sara racing into her room with guns drawn. They both quickly looked around and saw the broken glass and Felicity and Thea sitting calmly. They lowered their guns at the same time when they realized that there was no threat beyond Thea’s pitching skills. 

Felicity found Thea’s eyes, and shook her head slightly, as if to say can you believe what we have to put up with. Thea started to giggle, which set off Felicity. Roy and Sara both gave them slightly disgusted looks. 

“It could have been someone breaking into kidnap you!” Sara tried to sound serious. 

“Seriously? They would have to get past the locked gate, secure perimeter, flood lights, motion detectors, exterior guards, the house’s security system, and my panic button.” As she spoke, Thea made room for Roy on her bed. She also let him put an arm around her, even though Felicity was not sure that Thea exactly wanted to be comforted. 

Felicity made a mental note to investigate the mansion’s security and make sure she had access to everything. She had not realized before how secure the mansion was, though Thea seemed very aware of all the security precautions. 

“Your brother trusts us to make sure you are safe,” said Roy. He pointedly ignored the glass on the floor, and did not ask how it had happened. Sara seemed to agree with him because she followed Roy’s lead.

“If your brother was here I am sure that he would tell you that it’s also part of our job to make the world’s best hot chocolate.” Thea rolled her eyes at Sara, but didn’t disagree. “Plus it’s Thursday night, and it’s a rule that you have hot chocolate on Thursdays.”

This time it was Felicity who rolled her eyes at Sara. “Sara, I am pretty sure you think it’s a rule to have hot chocolate every night.”

“Duh. And every morning. Preferably with donuts. Want to come learn my secret ingredient for the world’s best hot chocolate?” 

What Felicity really wanted to do was turn down the invitation so that she could go back to the office and start studying invisible ink and the different methods to revealing hidden messages. However, she also wanted to make sure that Thea was okay. Oliver’s sister was putting up a good front, but minutes before she was literally vibrating with grief. Felicity was not convinced that the emotion was gone just because Thea masked it so quickly. 

“Only if Thea comes too.” Felicity replied. 

Thea spoke before Sara could move. “I’ll save you some time and calories, Felicity, her secret ingredient is cinnamon. I’m going to head to the club for the rest of the night. We have a new DJ and I want to see how he is doing.”

Sara opened her mouth and quirked her head slightly, like she often did when she was going to say something teasing and then stopped. “Rain check then. We haven’t hung out in a while Speedy.”

“That’s because last time you refused to teach me to fight and then you left when I said that you only listened to Oliver because you were in love with him.” Thea grabbed the jacket that she had flung on her sitting chair when she entered her room and stormed out with a determined flair that made Felicity think she had done this several dozen times in the last month. 

“Well that’s my cue to leave too.” Roy sighed with resigned patience and pushed himself up off the bed and followed her out. 

Sara looked intently at the pile of glass that she had previously been ignoring. “I guess I should go find a broom to sweep this up.”

Felicity recognized obfustication when it punched her in the face, or rather was offering to clean up Thea’s mess. Sara might think that acting like Thea hadn’t made that last comment was easier, but Felicity figured they should tackle the elephant that Thea invited into the room.

“Thea is angry about a lot of things, and trying to use us to hurt her brother. Anyway, I know that you used to sleep with Oliver.” Felicity stressed her use of the past tense. She didn’t mind that Oliver had slept with Sara before. However, Felicity would have an issue with it happening again. “And, I know you’re not in love with him.”

Sara collapsed on to Thea’s bed. “Did Oliver tell you?”

Felicity actually laughed at the idea that Oliver might have been voluntarily forthcoming about his feelings or past. “No. You do realize that your phones have GPS and there are records of where you go and how long you stay there, right?”

Sara pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and stared at it. “Thats kind of creepy that you can figure out that we had sex based on our phones.”

“Well I assumed that is what you and Oliver were doing when he would spend the night at your apartment. I guess you could have been playing monopoly.” Felicity mocked gently. There were other clues like the number of times that Oliver stopped at the corner store near Sara’s apartment to buy condoms, but Felicity didn’t think she need to mention those clues to make her point. 

Felicity continued, “As for you not being in love with him. First, I have eyes. You love him, but for the friend with benefits that he was. Second, you have spent the last seven months listening to serious broken heart music. I assume your neighbors are very sick of Adele.” 

“My phone told you that?” Sara asked. The quizzical look on her face was pretty funny and Felicity wanted to laugh at her belief that a phone could document a broken heart. 

“No your spotify playlist, and serious ice cream and whiskey habit told me that. I don’t know where were you seven months ago, or what happened, but I think you came home because of a broken heart.”

Where Sara had been for most of the years after Robert Queen’s death was one of the things that was on Felicity’s long list of unanswered questions. She knew that Sara left Starling with Oliver right after Robert died. It had been easy to track them to England because they had travelled under their own names, though on QC’s private plane. Once they got there there they truly disappeared. Felicity had guessed they got fake papers from the Bratva’s best forger who lived in Liverpool. Aside from being great at creating false identities, he was very good at keeping his mouth closed. He had refused to admit that Oliver and Sara went to him when Felicity skyped him over the weekend. 

The next thing that Felicity had been able to confirm was the Oliver and Sara arrived in Russia three weeks after they left Starling. The only reason that Felicity had been able to confirm that was because they met with Anatoly Knyazev as soon as they arrived in Moscow. After that Felicity had been able to piece together most of what Oliver did for the five years he was gone, but Sara disappeared after three months in Russia. 

Felicity finally reached Knyazev before she went to work today. He told her that Sara was a better fighter than Oliver when they arrived. Anatoly remembered that it was Oliver who struggled to learn Bratva ways and to follow orders. Knyazev said Sara quickly established herself amongst the enforcers, both because of her martial arts skills, and because of her fearlessness. Knyazev went so far as to tell Felicity that it was too bad Sara was not a man. Felicity managed to bite her tongue by sheer force of will. He didn’t notice her silence, and continued to complain that Sara was wasted as a woman, especially since she refused get along with the men in his organization. Felicity interpreted that to mean that Sara refused to play along with misogynistic hierarchy that was much stronger in the Russian Bratva. Felicity assumed it was what drove Sara out of Moscow, though she couldn’t figure out where Sara went from Russia. Knyazev had only said that Sara went into the shadows, whatever that meant. 

What was really weird to Felicity was that for the next six and a half years, Sara occasionally popped back up in random places for reasons that Felicity could not begin to guess at. She visited Oliver at least three times in Russia according to Knyazev, but there were no records of Sara’s travel. Sara never took money out of her bank accounts, used her credit cards, or even logged into her Facebook as far as Felicity could tell. It was very disconcerting. 

Felicity even went to far as to hack the FBI and CIA so she could run a picture of Sara’s face through the best facial recognition software available to the security agencies. It had turned up several matches. One showed a woman who could’ve been Sara arriving in the Philippines in 2012, but there was no record of that woman ever leaving. Another photo was from a basketball game in China six months before the Philippines, and a third showed Sara at political protest in Argentina a year later. 

Sara was basically dead as far as the documented world was concerned until seven months ago when she had shown up in Starling City and started working as a bartender at Verdant and started spending time with Oliver again. She had mostly kept her nose clean other than a few parking tickets and fight with a customer at Verdant that had led to some interesting police reports.

According to the report that actually mentioned Sara by name, she approached a customer who had been at the bar several times before. There were differing reports about what she said to him. He said that Sara thought he was a rival drug dealer trying to move in on her territory. Sara said that she caught him slipping a roofie into a woman’s drink. Based on the fellow’s criminal history Felicity believed Sara’s version, and would have even if they weren’t friends. The reports were not clear about exactly what Sara and the fellow said to each other, but something pushed him to reach across the bar and grab Sara’s arm while they were talking. He denied making the first move, though the surveillance video showed him squeezing her wrist. It looked like he was going to literally start twisting her arm to get her to back off. 

It didn’t work out the way that he expected it to according to the video. Felicity didn’t know enough about martial arts to tell exactly what Sara did, but she easily freed her arm and hauled the guy off his feet and threw him to the ground in front of the bar. The crowded cleared a space, and Sara looked like she was just warming up to kill him. In the time it took him to pick himself up, Sara vaulted over the bar, and landed lithely on her feet with her fists up. 

The guy knew how to fight too, or at least brawl because he stayed cool enough to grab a beer bottle and take a swing at Sara. The blonde ducked the wild swing, and somehow used the guy’s momentum to push him into the bar head first. 

He broke of the bottom of the bottle off before he stood up and charged at Sara again. She sidestepped his attack, and neatly tripped him. He responded by turning around and trying to tackle her again. Sara answered with a series of punches and kicks that left him doubled over. Before he could recover, Felicity cringed watching Sara roundhouse kicked him to the ground and unnecessarily kick him again to keep him there. 

The whole thing lasted less than a minute according to the video. As far as Felicity could tell Sara probably could have ended it sooner than she did because the guy was clearly outmatched from the minute he laid his hand on Sara. However, Sara seemed to relish cleaning the floor with him and didn’t pull her punches. The surveillance video’s bad angles captured her brutal predatory anger in full detail. Several other patrons filmed the fight on their phones and had put them on the internet. Those videos were badly light, and harder to follow because of close shots, but two of them almost sparked with the energy and animal rage rolling off Sara. Felicity wasn’t surprised that both videos had gone viral. 

Watching Sara fight was chilling. Everytime Felicity had seen Oliver use violence his actions were perfectly measured in response to the situations. Oliver innately determined exactly the amount of violence it would take to make it clear to Maksim that he had overstepped. It was like Oliver started at zero and pressed the gas until he reached the speed limit. Sara, on the other hand, looked like she started at a hundred and twenty miles per hour and then tried to brake because she was in a twenty-five zone. 

The guy had a concussion and two cracked ribs as a result of Sara’s actions in the fight. He tried to press charges, but the cops wouldn’t charge her because they had found roofies and vertigo when they searched him after the fight. Plus there had been a series of date rapes at bars and clubs in the area for several weeks leading up to the fight, which also coincided with the guy getting released on probation. 

Moreover, at the time there was a bad batch of vertigo on the streets that caused at least seven deaths and put dozen more in the ICU. The vertigo in his pocket was the first sample of that bad batch the police were able to confiscate. If Felicity read between the lines correctly, the cops seemed almost ready to thank Sara for the break. 

The police report was careful not to call Sara’s response unmeasured and while the tone was disapproving, the investigating officer had also been impressed by Sara’s martial art skills. Ultimately, Sara had not been punished for her actions, which were deemed to be in self defense. Felicity wondered how much it helped that her father was a detective and Oliver made a large donation to the SCPD’s injured officers’ fund the morning after the fight. 

It was the other two reports that Felicity found more interesting. Sara’s name was nowhere in either of them. The first was easy to find because it involved the same fellow as the fight in Verdant. Three nights after that fight after somebody posted bail for him, he was ambushed on his way to his car. His captors, and according to him there were at least three, took him to an abandoned warehouse technically owned by a holding company owned by a subsidiary of Queen Consolidated. 

At the warehouse, They hogtied him and then they tortured him. It was the the only way to put it. One of his captors, quite thoroughly and expertly inflicted pain with as little permanent damage as possible until the guy told them what they wanted to know. The police received a 911 call telling them exactly where to find the guy the next morning. he was still alive and while worse for the wear, he only had cuts and bruises that would heal He refused to tell the officers what his captors had been after. The cops didn’t hold him on anything since being kidnapped and tortured was not a violation of his bond. 

He disappeared two days later. Felicity wasn’t entirely surprised by the chain of events. Getting kidnapped and tortured did seem like a good sign that you should get out of dodge. However, Felicity’s gut was that he was running from whoever he sold out and not from his kidnappers since they didn’t kill him once they got whatever information they were after. It was that feeling that made Felicity revisit the bad Vertigo that he had been caught with after the fight with Sara.

The third report didn’t mention him or Sara. In fact it was a stretch to think that it was connected to the other two, but Felicity trusted her hunch on this. The night after the guy was tortured there was a well planned attack on a Triad safehouse. The team that executed the assault didn’t kill anyone and they didn’t take any of the cash or drugs that were in the house as far as the police could figure out. In fact it looked like all the team did was clear the house of weapons, tie up everyone there, and then call the police. When the police arrived they found the lab that was producing the tainted Vertigo as well as several of the major drug dealers working for the Triad. 

They didn’t get the scientist making the Vertigo, and there wasn’t sufficient evidence to tie the whole thing back to any bigger fish in the Triad, but the bust effectively ended the deaths and overdoses because of the bad Vertigo. 

Felicity actually remembered news of the bust, though she had not realized that it was initiated by a group of vigilantes. She had found the whole thing rather remarkable when it happened four months ago and sent Deda an email about it. Based on the stuff in the news, she had thought it might be another gang moving in on the drug trace in Starling. 

Deda’s only response to the email had been to say that the Triad was stupid to sell drugs that killed their customers. At the time she thought he was commenting on it being a bad business practice to lose paying customers. Now she thought that what he really meant was that the Triad was stupid to anger somebody in Starling who had the skills and resources to launch a full out assault on them. This person didn’t care about following the law, but also tried to avoid killing people unless absolutely necessary. 

Felicity had made a list of the people in Starling who had all the requisite skills, deep pockets, and a personal code that would condone torture, but frown on murder. 

There was only one name on that list--Oliver Queen. 

Sara’s past was a mystery that intrigued Felicity, but it was Oliver’s actions that she really didn’t understand. He said that he did not want to be Bratva; that he had no interest in using his position as a captain, but then he went and did things like destroy a drug ring and cost the Triad lots of money at the same time. 

All of this had nothing and everything to do with Sara sleeping with Oliver Queen. Felicity didn’t know who broke Sara’s heart, but it wasn’t Oliver. Felicity didn’t mean to invade Sara’s privacy, at least not about the heartbreak or her bed companions. 

“I really didn’t go looking to see if you were sleeping Oliver.” Felicity sighed and continued, “Deda didn’t know much about your past.”

Sara quirked an eyebrow and coughed lightly to correct Felicity. 

“Okay, Deda knows absolutely nothing about you.” Felicity shrugged as she spoke, hoping that Sara understood what she was trying to say. “You’re suppose to be keeping me safe. Sue me for looking into whether or not you might sell me out! The stuff about you and Oliver was just a side effect.”

“And?” Sara prompted. Sara didn’t move from her spot on the bed and her voice had been devoid of any actual emotion, but Felicity could tell that her answer to this question was going to set the tone for her future relationship with her bodyguard. For a hot second Felicity considered playing dumb, and asking Sara what she meant even though Felicity knew that there was only one relevant question to answer. 

Felicity answered firmly, “I don’t know anymore than my grandpa about where you were or who trained you, but there is nothing that makes me think that you would ever sell me out or betray Oliver.”

“Even though I use to sleep with him?” Sara asked bluntly.

“Are you going to be an idiot because Oliver and I are attracted to each other?” Felicity responded. Sara shook her head at Felicity’s rhetorical question. Both women knew that Sara’s previous relationship with Oliver would never affect her professionalism. 

Felicity explained, “You aren’t jealous of my feelings for him, or his feelings for me. As I said before you love him, but aren’t in love with him. And…” Felicity paused to think about how to put this exactly. “He’s your commander first, friend second, and lover third. There is nothing wrong with that order, but I don’t think it’s the basis for a relationship between equals.”

Sara nodded at Felicity’s words and didn’t look angry about her saying that Sara and Oliver weren’t equals. Sara replied quietly after thinking for a few moments,“Ollie needs someone who isn’t intimidated by him being a billionaire, which was Laurel’s problem. Ollie’s always been a friend, but I pursued him because I was nineteen and bored. Having an affair with him seemed exciting.” Sara stopped to laugh at the whole situation. “I had no idea that sleeping with Ollie would be the start of a truly great adventure, but you’re right that he is my captain before he is my friend or my lover.”

Sara studied Felicity, but didn’t say the thing they were both thinking. Felicity always treated him like a person. She forgot about the billions of dollars, refused to be cowed by his position, and she was just as inclined to order him around as she was to follow his commands. She got tongue tied because of her attraction to him, but it was a genuine response that had more to do with his strong jaw, handsome face, and lust worthy body, than with his name or money.

When it was clear neither of them had more to add, Sara spoke up, “Still want the world’s best hot chocolate?” 

Sara knew their conversation was over and Felicity appreciated the attempt to redirect them towards sugar. Sara’s sweet tooth was the only really predictable thing about the other blonde. 

“I am taking a rain check too. Thea gave me an idea about how to solve an ongoing problem.” Felicity followed Sara out of Thea’s room, and headed to the office and the notebook. Now she just had to figure out how to reveal the hidden messages that Robert Queen had left for Oliver.


	13. Chapter 13

Felicity didn’t recognize herself, and it wasn’t just because of the lack of her normal glasses. She looked at herself all dressed up once more in the full length mirror in her closet...or dressing room. Felicity wasn’t really sure what to call the space that was big enough to fit her whole office but was meant to hold her clothes. She had walked into her room when she got home from work to find her dress laid out, her accessories ready to go, and a makeup artist and hair stylist waiting all courtesy of Thea.

Thea directed Felicity's preparation for the benefit with a rigid schedule and precision that a drill sergeant would have envied. Thea had started with a series of text messages to make sure that Felicity left the office on time, which was followed by Digg calling with a fifteen minute warning, and a threat to carry her out of the office if she was not ready to leave.

Felicity had continued to be bossed around once she got home. Thea’s chosen make-up artist and hair stylist had not asked Felicity how she wanted her hair styled or what color lipstick to use. Felicity would have been more annoyed with how they deferred to Thea, except Thea’s styling choices were excellent.

Felicity turned her attention from her image to Thea who was fiddling with Felicity’s traveling jewelry case.“Are you sure about the dress?” Felicity asked Thea for what felt like the millionth time. Both the makeup artist and hairstylist had said Felicity looked great before they left. “I could wear my gold mini-dress--

They would probably be late if she changed, but Felicity liked the gold mini-dress and she felt slightly over dressed in an actual gown.

“No. Trust me this is the dress.” Thea cut off Felicity, and gave her one last appraisal. “Definitely the dress. Green is Ollie’s favorite color.”

“Oh, Verdant!” Felicity blurted out in realization, gulped slightly and closed her mouth since she wasn’t really sure what to else to say about Thea choosing a dress that was her brother’s favorite color.

It did explain why Thea had insisted Felicity try the dress on. Felicity had taken one look at the plunging neckline, nude lining, and sheer netting covered in deep green sequins that had just a hint of blue in them and told Thea she would never wear a dress like that.

The sequins were scattered across the shoulders, cascading down the dress, growing fuller at the belted waist and then dripping down the straight, swishy skirt in long sparkly lines. The color was enchanting and made her pale skin glow, the belt perfectly defined her waist, and the long line of the skirt made her look several inches taller. Felicity knew it was an excellent dress, but she would have never thought to try it on with its faint homage to the 1920’s and risque v-neck that showed off her whole sternum.

Like most things, Thea had gotten her way. She insisted Felicity try it on and then won the fight about Felicity buying the dress. Felicity worried it was too much for a charity event, especially one where she would be attending as Oliver Queen’s girlfriend. Thea had argued Felicity was unforgettable in the dress, and that was the only way to get people to realize that Oliver had a girlfriend. Felicity did understand Thea’s point.

Thea had told the hairdresser to curl Felicity’s hair up in a faux bob that echoed the outfit’s slight Downton Abbey-esque cut in the best way. The makeup artist highlighted Felicity’s cheeks with ruddy pink blush and called attention to her lips with a bright modern red, with a touch of pink. The lipstick kept the whole outfit from feeling like a costume.

Felicity had contributed a three strand pearl bracelet that had been a gift from Deda and Baba for her last birthday. She had listened to Thea’s advice to skip other jewelry, though it felt odd not to have on earrings.

Thea was also ready to go benefit, but somehow her dress and makeup were far less interesting to her than Felicity’s. Thea let the makeup artist do whatever she wanted, whereas Thea had very clear opinions about Felicity’s lipstick color, and Thea had let the hair dresser style her angular bob without interference. Her black dress was well cut and did not overwhelm her slight frame, and even with its deep side slit it seemed much more sedate compared to Felicity’s outfit. Felicity wondered if Thea had purposefully chosen her outfit so that she didn’t distract from Felicity.

If that was true, Felicity thought it was very sweet of Thea, and slightly terrifying to consider how much attention would be directed at her during this benefit.

Thea’s phone beeped with an incoming text message. She read the message and told Felicity that Roy needed help with his tie.

“Can you take a picture before you go? Baba wants to see my dress,” Felicity remembered to ask before Thea left.

“Sure. Don’t forget to give me credit for the styling since she gets credit for your good genes.” Thea took the phone that Felicity handed her and ignored her rolled eyes. ”Say, cheese.”

Thea handed the phone back, reminded Felicity to avoid wrinkling the dress, and excused herself.

 _Here is a pic. Styling credit goes to Thea_. Felicity sent the picture and message to Baba. She was not surprised that she got a response almost instantaneously.

 _Green is a lovely color on you, Teacup!_ Sometimes Felicity really wondered how much her grandmother actually knew about the men in the Bratva. Sophie wasn’t psychic, but she had a startling ability to seem omniscient. Felicity figured there was a decent chance Baba knew that green was Oliver’s favorite color.

Another message quickly followed, _And the dress looks perfect for waltzing!_ Felicity laughed at her grandmother’s subtle (well subtle for Sophie) hint.

There was a knock at the door to her room. “Come in,” Felicity shouted as she walked out of her dressing room. She didn’t look where she was going because she was texting Baba, _I’ll be sure to let you know! gtg. love you._

“Did you forget something, Thea?” Felicity asked as she hit enter and sent the text. She assumed that it was Thea coming back to get something.

“Just how beautiful you are.”

Felicity’s eyes flew up from her phone to see Oliver standing in her room, dressed in a crisp black tuxedo, and holding a jewelry box. Felicity forgot all of that when she saw his relaxed grin.

“You’re beautiful too…” Felicity made a face that she was sure ruined her whole look and would leave Baba aghast. “I mean...well...actually I meant exactly what I said, it just didn’t sound as creepy or like a thirteen year old girl in my head.”

Oliver laughed, “It’s not as much fun to listen to you talk over the phone. I missed your expressions.”

She had not seen him since Monday because he extended his trip until that morning. They had talked on the phone last night. He had tried to convince her to Facetime when she told him that she was in bed in an old tank top. She had refused and then regaled him with stories about the various ways someone could hack their conversation. As payback he had described in excruciating detail his own lack of clothing and the hotel bed that he was in. Facetiming might have been a better choice.

“You look stunning.” Oliver emphasized his point by slowly checking her out, lingering on her exposed chest on his way down, and licking his lips as his eyes traveled back up to her face.

Felicity flushed with the heat of his gaze, which just made him smile more smugly.

“Your ego is truly impressive.” She teased him to try and shift the energy in the room. If he kept looking at her like that they would not be making it to the benefit. Oliver just laughed. He clearly knew the effect that he had on her.

“Thea sent me in here with these. I guess she forgot to get them out of the family vault and give them to you earlier.” Oliver opened the jewelry box to reveal a pair of diamond chandelier earrings. Felicity resisted her first impulse which was to reach out for the sparkly antique earrings that were probably worth the same as a small house in a nice suburb. Oliver continued,“They’re part of an old family set that hasn’t been used in a while. ”

“Oh…” Felicity wasn’t use to being speechless. “I can’t wear your family’s jewelry!” Thea had not mentioned that she wanted Felicity to wear the Queen Family jewels. It was very disconcerting, and Felicity’s impulse was to say no as soon as her tongue started working.

“You’ll hurt Thea’s feelings if you don’t.” Oliver responded. “She likes you, and this is her way of showing it. She’s never suggested I lend family jewelry to anyone before.”

Oliver sounded pleased that Thea had offered up the earrings. Felicity tried to say something because it didn’t help her nerves to hear that this was the first time one of Oliver’s girlfriends wore jewelry from the Queen vault. She couldn’t get words out though because Oliver approached her while she was tongue tied, until he was so close all she could see the smooth weave of his jacket. He didn’t touch her though, just leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“Thea also gave me strict instructions to not ruin your makeup.” As he spoke Oliver lightly trailed his fingers down her arms until he could hold her hands. “I think she is being a hellion telling me that I can’t kiss you because all I have been able to think about since I left was kissing you when I got home.” He lifted both her hands to his lips and kissed her palms. “As you know my sister is fully capable of fulfilling her threats. So I guess I will just have to make sure not to touch your makeup.”

Oliver leaned down and kissed the tender hollow at the middle of her collar bone. He trailed light kisses up to her ear, and gently swept her hair away from her neck. Felicity sighed as Oliver ran a finger around her ear lobe. He whispered into her ear “Thea also told me to be downstairs ready to go in three minutes, so I better help you with these earrings.”

Oliver nipped at her earlobe. She needed an anchor, or she was going to be swept away by the rush of heat sweeping through her body and making her lose sight of their responsibilities. She reached for his hips and dug her fingers into his firm muscle to keep herself upright. Oliver’s breath caught in his throat as she pulled herself to him, and he took a long deep breath before he regained his composure enough to gently insert the earring. He kissed the thin skin behind her ear before he turned to her other ear and repeated the process. He was lightly kissing his way down her neck, when her phone rang with an incoming message and broke the spell they had both been under.

 _NO SEX. We are waiting for you to leave_. Felicity giggled at Thea’s message and showed it to Oliver.

Oliver grimaced, “I was perfectly happy as an only child. I would be perfectly happy as an only child. We had better go. It will be a long limo ride if she is pissed at us.”

Oliver helped her into her coat and lead her to the Grand Atrium where they met Thea and Roy. Raisa was with them.

“Miss Felicity you look very pretty. Mrs. Queen’s earrings suit you.” Raisa turned to Oliver and Thea. “Behave yourselves and remember you are Queens. Don’t embarrass me.”

Thea laughed lightly and gave the housekeeper a quick kiss on her cheek before heading out to the waiting car. Roy followed her out.

“We would never embarrass you Raisa.” Oliver promised. Raisa squinted at Oliver. She knew him well enough to know that he was sincere, but she also didn’t believe him. Felicity imagined they had this conversation before and would have it again.

Raisa accepted a kiss on her cheek from Oliver and shooed them out of the mansion. “Have a good time you two.”

Felicity nodded her thanks and followed Oliver out the door. As they were walking to the care she whispered, “Am I wearing your mother’s earrings?”

“No, my great-great grandmother’s. Mom prefers more modern pieces. Thea thought this pair would suit you.” Oliver gave her a long look. “I agree.”

Oliver handed her into the limo before she could say anything or at least thank him for the compliment. She saw that Thea and Roy were already seated on one of the limo’s long bench seats. Thea was pouring champagne and discussing the best funny cat videos with Roy who sat a bit too rigidly to be considered comfortable with his surroundings, but he only had eyes for Thea. Felicity assumed Roy was willing to brave a benefit filled with the city’s wealthy elite to be near her.

Digg was driving and seemed to be in his disguise as Oliver’s driver-slash-bodyguard. Felicity figured there was some truth to the role, but they all knew that Digg was much more than just an employee who made Oliver’s life easier.

Felicity took the champagne that Thea handed her and laughed when the others did at the funny cat videos Thea pulled up on her phone, but Felicity wasn’t focused and found herself thinking about other things.

Since her conversation with Dan on Wednesday she had very deliberately not thought about what he said. Twice she picked up her phone to call Deda and Baba and talk to them about it. But, both times she stopped. She knew they would listen, and offer advice whether she wanted it or not, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear them tell her Dan’s idea was crazy. She agreed it was crazy, but there was a little part of her that wanted to try and see if Dan was right. She was even more scared that she would tell them Dan’s plan, and they would agree with him. She didn’t know what she wanted, and she wasn’t ready to have her grandparents decide for her.

Felicity shivered at the whole idea. No matter what her grandparents’ opinion about Dan’s idea, she needed to figure out what she wanted before she talked to them. Oliver noticed her discomfort, and put his arm around her. She wasn’t cold, but the weight of his arm was satisfying and she nestled closer while he continued to carry the conversation with Thea and Roy.

Felicity’s feelings about her conversation with Dan were confusing enough that she had almost called Donna the night before. She wondered what her mother’s advice would be, but Felicity was sure that first she would have to deal with Donna’s true horror at the whole situation. She expected that Donna would tell her to move home and forget about the Bratva. Felicity didn’t need to call and have her mother cry, just to hear Donna tell her things that she already knew.

Her mother did not know what was going on because Felicity had not told her. After the first kidnapping attempt Deda, assured Felicity that Donna was safe in Las Vegas. No one in the Bratva, not even Zakharov would be crazy enough to go there without the explicit permission of Vince Cardellini, the mob boss who controlled all of Vegas’s illegal enterprises, and many of its legal ones too. He liked Donna well enough, and was willing to let her live in his city and work at one of his casinos so long as she maintained her promise to have nothing to do with the Bratva. It worked for both of them. Donna got the relative protection of his power, and Vince knew that Deda and would keep the Bratva out of Las Vegas as long as Donna was there.

Instead, last night when Felicity couldn’t sleep because she was thinking about Dan’s idea she called Oliver. She wanted to talk out her concerns with him, and learn what he thought. A week ago if she had an issue with the Bratva, or a problem at work, or just a bad conversation with Donna, Felicity would have shared a bottle of wine with Dan and vented to him. Now, she found that in each of those situations she wanted to share her feelings with Oliver. She wanted to know what he thought she should do.

As soon as he picked up the phone, and Felicity heard his voice go from tired and deflated to happy and teasing when she said that she called him because she missed him, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the real reason for the phone call. She trusted that he would have listened to her and tried his best to offer counsel over the phone, but Felicity didn’t want to make his day any longer. Instead, she let him tease her about Facetime, and she babbled about secure servers and how easy it was to find supposedly deleted dirty pics. She had hoped they would have time to talk before the benefit, but Thea’s militaristic adherence to their schedule meant that she didn’t have time to find Oliver when she got home.

Aside from talking about Dan’s plan, Felicity had not told Oliver about her work on the notebook. The decryption program had come up with several different possible ciphers, but none of them made any sense. Felicity was beginning to suspect that one of the ciphers was correct, but that the decrypted notes were still in some coded shorthand that she needed a key to decode. It would be an interesting project if she didn’t feel pressure about producing results.

She had also come up with a series of tests to try and reveal the hidden messages that she was sure were on the blank pages. It turned out there was a wide range of invisible inks and the correct method for revealing the message depended on the type of ink used. Since Felicity didn’t know, and she guessed it was more complicated than the lemon juice Robert Queen had used on Thea’s note, she was hesitant to just try things and see what happened. The chance of ruining the blank pages was just too high. She would rather take a little longer and get it right.

What she really need was time. Between talking to Oliver last night, work, and getting ready for the benefit, Felicity had not been able to find the time to start experimenting with the blank pages.

As lovely as it was to be curled up next to Oliver, a part of her wished that she was at the Mansion investigating the notebook’s secrets or that she had at least spent the afternoon on the notebook instead of getting beautified as Thea put it. The look on Oliver’s face when he saw her made it worth it--totally worth it--but she still wished that she had spent the time trying to discover the information that Robert Queen hid in the notebook.

They reached the Glades quickly. It was not a part of town that Felicity was particularly familiar with. She only came to the area to get Big Belly Burger when she was having an epic bad day and she never focused on her surroundings. She enjoyed looking out the window as they drove to Verdant. Many of the buildings were abandoned, but it was hard to miss the beauty in the old brick warehouses. The old Clock Tower didn’t work anymore, but it was suppose to be fully restored as a part of the redevelopment of the Glades. The neighborhood had already started to change with the opening of Verdant. There were several other bars now, a hipster coffee roaster, and according to Josh the best tattoo parlor in Starling. That change was going to speed up with the new stadium and the approved redevelopment plan. Felicity knew that the change would be seismic if Dan could find funding for Bertenilli’s plan.

People like Oliver, who owned property in the Glades, would make a killing. She assumed that he must have already been offered money for the series of old factories and foundries that QC owned in the area. Felicity knew that Bertinelli had bought some of the surroundings property, but she was sure that there were other property owners who would agree to his plans if he could put together the financing.

“What are you thinking about?” Oliver leaned over and asked. Thea and Roy were now watching videos of cats who were scared of cucumbers. Oliver didn’t seem to find it as funny as they did.

Felicity answered truthfully before she considered how it sounded. “Investment bankers and pakhans are pretty much the same.” Oliver had his public mask on already, but Felicity could see the confusion and question in his eyes. “Just thinking about something that Dan said.”

Oliver nodded and didn’t ask anything further. “You promise to tell me if you aren’t having a good time, or if you want to leave, right? We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to be here.”

She appreciated his concern. “I’ll be fine. I am looking forward to winning some shoe money.”

“I’ll buy you all the shoes you could ever want. We will leave the moment you are not having fun.” Oliver said adamantly, and Felicity knew that he would not let her disagree with him.

At the other end of the car, Felicity could see Thea rolling her eyes at her brother’s hyperbole. Oliver was turned towards Felicity do didn’t notice his sister’s behavior, which was probably just as well because his little sister started gagging in mock disgust over his very romantic offer.

“Oliver, it is not about the shoes. It is about buying them with money that I won.” Felicity sighed as soon as she spoke. Dan might have a point about her competitive streak.

“Ollie is right.” Thea interrupted their conversation her face back to its normal blank mature stare. “These things can suck, and you aren’t a Queen. Enjoy your freedom.”

Felicity nodded. She didn’t have to answer though because they were pulling up at the nightclub. Digg stopped the car at the entrance, which literally was covered in a red carpet. There were several photographers taking pictures of people as they arrived, and a crowd of people waiting to see if they could get autographs from the party goers.

While they were getting ready earlier, Thea told Felicity that Tommy’s ability to get famous and rich people to come to this party was legendary. He had started throwing it four years ago to impress Laurel. Now it was a party that anyone who was anyone made sure to be seen at, and Tommy lived with the woman who inspired him to throw it in the first place.

One of the attendants opened the door. Roy got out first, and Felicity noticed that he discretely scanned the crowd before he helped Thea out of the car. Oliver followed his sister, and reached back to assist Felicity. She couldn’t see much since he was blocking the door, but she heard the crowd grow louder when he had stepped out.

It was intimidating in a way that Felicity had never experienced before. It was nothing like showing up for class to find out she forgot about a test. She didn’t get scared of hacking the NSA, and she didn’t find it stressful to deal with a massive system failure with the QC servers. Up until this moment, Felicity would have said that the scariest thing she ever did was walk into Deda’s office ready to bargain for her tuition.

This was totally different. She could hear the crowd, feel their energy and interest. It was overwhelming and totally out of her control.

Oliver must have sensed her hesitation because he gave her a true smile, no masks or titles, just him offering her support, and said, “You can totally do this.” He sounded so sure of her that Felicity couldn’t help but believe him.

Felicity took his hand, and let him guide her through the walkway. Oliver stopped to let the photographers get a picture, and Felicity remembered Thea’s lesson on how to pose to avoid double chins and weird facial expressions. The whole time she held Oliver’s hand, though she didn’t start to relax until they walked into the building.

For a few seconds, as she adjusted to the relative quiet, Felicity thought that the evening was going to be a cakewalk, and then she felt her apprehension return as she looked around. She had only been to Verdant once before when Lucy visited after Oliver’s return. That time Felicity wore tight black pants and a barely there silver crop top that was great for dancing. The club had been filled with pulsing bodies, pounding beats, and flashing lights.

The only thing that was the same this time was that the club was filled with people. Instead of a DJ, there was a jazz band playing soothingly in the far corner. There was a dance floor, but couples were gently swaying instead of grinding like normal. Throughout the club, Tommy had set up game tables manned by professional dealers in white tie. Felicity ignored the roulette, and immediately noticed the full black jack tables and felt the urge to take a seat and see what her luck was like. Last time, the lights had made the club feel like a place for adventure and debauchery; somehow the lighting was changed to set a tone that encouraged people to take risks.

Felicity looked around at the crowd. Everyone was as dressed up as she was, which was exactly what Thea had promised. Felicity recognized a number of people including, the mayor talking to the Rockets’ coach and the coach’s very famous super model girlfriend looking bored. Oliver nodded to several people as they entered, and stopped to talk to an older African American man that Felicity vaguely recognized. She nodded politely and pretended to listen to their conversation while she looked around the room.

Roy and Thea disappeared into the crowd. Thea had said that some of her friends would be at the party. Felicity looked around and easily found Daniel in the crowd because Josh was wearing what could best be described as hipster black tie. He looked excellent in the tightly cut midnight blue suit that practically gleamed with its newness. The narrow pants made his legs look even longer, and the suit was cut to draw attention to Josh’s narrow waist and square shoulders. The crisp white shirt and skinny black tie were classic and coordinated with Josh’s neatly groomed lumberjack beard and Buddy Holly glasses. As a finishing touch his light brown hair was pulled back in retro pompadour that accentuated his classically handsome face. Daniel was far more traditionally dressed in his custom tuxedo and own skinny black tie.

Felicity sent Daniel a text message, _You bought Josh’s suit, didn’t you?_

Daniel must have felt his phone vibrate, because he looked up and found her across the room. He gave her a small wave, and returned his attention to the older couple he was talking with while Josh tried not to look bored. Daniel must have politely excused Josh and himself, because they started to walk towards Felicity and Oliver. Josh smiled broadly when he saw Felicity. Yeah, this was not his crowd.

Her own phone pinged with Daniel’s response. _Of course I did. I wanted everyone to know that he is mine._ Felicity almost rolled her eyes and then remembered that people were watching her so she put on a sweet, practiced smile instead. Daniel might be gay and respect her like an equal, but he was still a man raised in the Bratva and sometimes he devolved into a caveman when it came to his boyfriends.

Her phone pinged again with another message from Daniel. _Nice earrings. They look like Queen family heirlooms_. This time Felicity had to bite her tongue to keep herself from making a face at Daniel.

Oliver noticed that her attention was directed towards her approaching friends. He dismissed the man that he had been talking to who, based on the conversation, worked for QC. Oliver placed his hand at the small of her back and cleared a path for them to the crowd until they reached Daniel and Josh.

“Gagarin.” Oliver’s voice was tad too firm when he greeted Daniel.

Oliver put out his hand, which Daniel shook with a bit too much strength, “Queen.”

Felicity and Josh shared a look and they both proceeded to ignore the men’s alpha male pissing contest. Josh gave her a quick hug, and she kissed him on his cheek, or well beard, but she had been aiming for his cheek.

“Daniel didn’t tell me that he was dragging you to this shindig,” Felicity said quietly.

Josh laughed nervously, “Yeah, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Oliver and Daniel seemed to have settled their immediate dispute with some silent exchange that she did not understand. “Oliver, you know Daniel, but I don’t think that you have met his boyfriend Josh.”

“It’s nice to meet Felicity’s friends.” Oliver said as he shook hands with Josh. Unlike his handshake with Daniel, there was no competition this time. Probably because Oliver knew that Josh was not exactly an assertive person. Oliver turned back to Daniel, “I didn’t realize you came to these types of things. Not exactly your crowd.”

Daniel answered with exacting precision, “We couldn’t let Felicity come without support.”

Felicity thought Daniel’s posturing this time might be based on some slight to Josh. Whatever it was didn’t really matter, Felicity was going to hate the party if Oliver and Daniel insisted on continuing to test each other, and their respective loyalty to her. And, Josh looked like he was literally going to run away if they continued to use him as a pawn.

“Boys, if I need to I will get out a ruler and we can measure which one of you is the bigger jackass. The prize will be me refusing to be within a hundred feet of you for the next month.”

Oliver looked slightly concerned, though mostly nonplussed at her threat, as though it was funny joke. Dan blanched. He knew she wasn’t joking and was desperately annoyed with their behavior. It was Dan who changed his body language subtly and ended the standoff. She would never understand exactly what it was that men did to signal that the pissing fight was really over. Felicity could feel Oliver relax and imagined she could see his hackles settling back under his disguise of billionaire playboy.

Daniel also expertly redirected her focus. “You look exquisite, Felicity. Spin!” This time she did roll her eyes at Daniel, but she followed his command. Oliver caught on quickly and held her hand like she was ballerina twirling on stage. “You in that dress is worth the gala ticket price.”

She blushed at Daniel’s compliment, and punched him in the arm so he would stop laying it on so thick. “I bet you will win back that money at blackjack.”

“First the point is to lose money for charity. Second, how much do you want to bet?” Next time Daniel accused her of being overly competitive he needed to look in the mirror.

Felicity answered without hesitation, “Loser matches the winner’s money as a donation to said charity.”

Daniel named terms, “A hundred dollars to start with, winner is whoever has more money at midnight.”

“Deal.” They shook on it. She turned to see Oliver whispering to Josh, and she caught just the tail end of his comment. It sounded like he was asking Josh if they were always like this. Josh nodded with resignation.

Daniel either didn’t notice, or didn’t care that Oliver and Josh were judging them for being competitive. He looked at Felicity and Oliver and realized that they really had only just arrived. “You need drinks, and I need Felicity to drink so I can win,” Daniel said as he gestured them towards the bar.

Everyone laughed at the last part and followed him. Oliver chivalrously offered Felicity his arm, and naturally cleared a path to the bar for her. Several people reached out to shake Oliver’s hand as they passed, or tried to start a conversation, but Oliver skillfully dismissed them without being rude. He knew exactly what to say to courteously avoid a conversation. Several times Oliver was the one who stuck out his hand, or clasped a man on the shoulder. Often Oliver paused long enough to introduce Felicity to someone. She politely returned their greetings and exchanged pleasantries if Oliver steered the brief conversation in that direction. As they walked Daniel did much the same thing while Josh trying to look game next to Daniel.

When they reached the bar, Felicity saw that Sara was working. Sara noticed them immediately and told her coworker that she would take care of them. As Sara walked over she gave them each a healthy once over. Sara grinned at Josh’s suit, and stopped slightly when she noticed Felicity’s earrings.

Oliver spoke first, “Hey Sara. May I get--”

“Nope.” Sara cutoff Oliver, “You’re in my domain now.” Sara actually cackled. “Prepare to drink whatever I make you.”

Oliver shook his head at Sara’s gumption, but kept his mouth closed. Sara shrugged like she knew that it had never even been a fight because Oliver was always going to concede.

“Danny-boy! Long time, no see.” Sara greeted Daniel while she started making Oliver a drink.

“Little Lance.” Daniel put out his fist, which Sara joyfully bumped with her own fist.

“Shhhhhh! Hasn’t your bestie over there told you that is my secret identity?” Sara said it like a joke, light and teasing, but her eyes were serious. She pressed her lips together just a touch too much as she muddled a sugar cube with a splash of water and a dash of bitters.

“Sorry.” Daniel apologized. “I always expected something crazy from Ollie...but, this is not what I would have guessed for you.” Felicity, Oliver, and Sara knew that Daniel was referring to the Bratva, not Sara’s job as a bartender. Poor Josh nodded along, but didn’t realize that there was a whole different conversation taking place.

Sara sighed, “You just remember the blonde cheerleader because you never looked farther than that cliche.” She added a large cube of ice to the short glass, topped it off with bourbon, swirled, and neatly added an orange twist as garnish. She handed the drink past Oliver to Daniel.

Daniel laughed tightly, “Well I always thought that you thought I was a closeted control freak, and all I remember is you following your sister around so maybe we can agree not to revisit our teenage years?”

Sara nodded, but didn’t answer because she was busy making a second old fashioned for Oliver. Oliver took his drink when it was done. Sara didn’t make Josh a cocktail. Instead she pulled a micro brew out of a fridge below the bar, popped of the cap and handed the bottle to him. He smiled gratefully to her and took a long drink.

While they were at the bar, one of the men that both Daniel and Oliver had stopped to greet on their way across the room had come over to talk. Now that they had drinks Oliver and Daniel and gave him their full attention. Felicity caught something about whether QC was considering expanding it production in Asia. Josh stood absentmindedly next to Daniel, and twirled his beer bottle. Felicity turned back to Sara. She didn’t mind shop talk, but this just sounded boring.

“Smoakin hot, Felicity.” Sara grinned with pride at her cleverness.

“Punny,” Felicity replied, with a sardonic drawl.

Sara actually guffawed as she poured vodka, vermouth, and a splash of olive juice into a shaker filled with ice. She capped it, and shook it enthusiastically before answering, “What can I say, I like low humor. Also the the Queen family jewels look good on you.” Felicity lightly touched the earrings. Sara chuckled again, “Not the family jewels I was talking about.”

As she spoke, Sara strained the drink into a martini glass, added a toothpick laced with three olives, and handed Felicity the martini.

“Your mind really does live in the gutter, doesn’t it?” Felicity asked as she accepted the drink and took a sip. It wasn’t her normal order, but she agreed with Sara that it was right for tonight.

Sara’s eyes went wide with surprise, and her nostrils flared with anger or maybe worry at something behind her. Felicity turned to see Tommy standing with a statuesque blonde who spoke as Felicity was moving, “Sara has been a gutter rat since birth.”

Sara sighed slightly, and must have bitten her tongue because she didn’t say anything. Tommy smiled in greeting, and as though his denial of any awkwardness would make it disappear, and looked ready to make introduction, but his date stuck out her hand and introduced herself first.

“Laurel Lance.”

Felicity took Laurel’s hand and responded with her own name. The moment it took for the greeting gave Felicity the chance to surreptitiously examine Tommy and his girlfriend. Tommy was dressed in an elegant, modern black tuxedo with a classic bow-tie. His date was taller than Felicity and her blonde hair was several shades darker, almost the lightest brown, and styled simply for the party. She was wearing a dress that was more conservatively cut than Felicity’s gown, though it fit Laurel like a second skin. It was the color that was dramatic. At first Felicity thought it was orange, and the next second red, and finally settled on some hybrid of the two that was Laurel’s power color.

Laurel didn’t have her sister’s hint of danger hiding right beneath the surface of her smile. Instead, the set of Laurel’s lips showed a shrewdness that was fed by sadness. Felicity imagined that whereas Sara threw a punch when threaten Laurel relied on harsh words and a sharp tongue to protect her heart.

Laurel took the same time to scrutinize Felicity. Tommy looked like he wanted to interrupt, but one glance at his girlfriend’s sharp gaze on Felicity made him stop. Oliver and Daniel were still talking to the first man, as well as several of his friends who had joined them. Felicity didn’t need Oliver to deal with this for her, but she wouldn’t have minded him standing at her back.

Felicity spoke before Laurel could, “It’s nice to meet you after the stories I have heard.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized exactly how they sounded. Laurel responded before Felicity could clarify what she meant.

“I haven’t heard much about you. I assumed you were blonde since Ollie’s always liked blondes. Most of the women he cheated on me with were blondes.” Laurel said it jovially, but the words put Felicity on edge. She feel the tension shooting up her backbone and lodging in her shoulders.

Oliver appeared at her side, and placed his hand lightly at the small of her back and she felt herself relax quickly. Daniel and Josh were there two seconds later. Sara was not very casually standing behind the bar ignoring the other patrons who were waiting for drinks. Felicity felt a bit like the Queen of England surrounded by her most trusted knights. She wasn’t sure why that idea occurred to her, or why it was comforting, but it was.

Oliver spoke before Felicity could respond, “Laurel, you look lovely.” Laurel beamed at the compliment, though Tommy now looked annoyed. Felicity was beginning to think that there was no easy way to get through this night. “If you want to be mean to anyone, be mean to me. I’m the one who slept with those women and with your sister.”

Felicity’s head snapped around like a rubber band pulled too wide and released too quickly. “You cheated on her with her sister?”

As she spoke Felicity did the math. Her head quickly swiveled right back around to look at Sara. “You slept with your sister’s boyfriend?”

Felicity knew that Oliver and Laurel dated before he went to Russia, and she was well aware that he and Sara had a long history of hooking up. However, Felicity had not realized that Oliver’s relationship with Laurel had been contemporaneous with him sleeping with Sara.

“It is not my proudest moment,” Sara sighed, but didn’t offer more of an explanation. Felicity looked to her other supporters. Oliver didn’t say anything and Daniel looked resigned to the whole scene, but not surprised.

“You knew!” Felicity pointed at her best friend. “You knew he cheated on his girlfriend with her little sister.”

Now Daniel sighed, “I told you that Ollie was kind of a spoiled prick when we were kids.”

Felicity nodded because Daniel had in fact used those exact words to describe Oliver when they were hanging out on Wednesday night.

“I would have said pretty damn douchey.” Felicity retorted. She looked at all of them as she spoke, and realized she wanted some space to think. If she stayed here, Laurel would want to use her to hurt Oliver. Oliver would want to protect her. Daniel would want to help him, while proving that he knew Felicity better than Oliver. Sara looked like she wanted to ask if Felicity was okay, and Tommy looked like he couldn’t trust any of them to behave like adults.

Felicity turned to Josh, who looked like he was having a horrible Friday night. “Do you want to accompany me to a blackjack table?”

“Hell yes,” Josh answered quickly and emphatically. He offered her his arm and she took it. Oliver looked like he was going to say something, but Daniel put his hand on Oliver’s arm. Felicity trusted that Daniel would make sure that she got the space she wanted right now.

Josh was not a guy to needlessly fill a silence and Felicity appreciated that about him. He led her to one of the card tables that had two open seats. Felicity neatly arranged her gown as she sat and reached into her clutch for cash to buy chips.

“I feel like Daniel deserves to pay for a couple of rounds,” said Josh as he handed her a hundred dollars worth of chips. She returned Josh’s sweet smile. As much as she teased Daniel about Josh being a barista and a hipster, she liked that he was the type of guy that brought home stray dogs and then would find a regular at the coffee shop to adopt the animal. Josh wasn’t exactly complicated, but he was a lot sweeter than Daniel.

They played several rounds before Felicity felt like saying anything. “I guess I am not even surprised that he slept with her sister while they were dating.” She thought for a moment longer. “I think that is what is bugging me.”

Josh nodded absently to her and gestured for another card. Felicity almost told him to hold, but held her tongue. She sighed when he was dealt a nine of spades. She was sure he had just busted. Josh looked at his initial cards and grimaced before he turned his attention to her.

“Dude, I am not telling you to a date a cheating cheater who cheats, but we all did stupid shit when we were younger.” Josh said.

Felicity nodded and accepted her money from the dealer. She had won, as she expected. Felicity put out a new bet before she responded to Josh. “Everyone, including Oliver, has said that he was a jackass.”

Josh put out his own much smaller bet, and asked “Do you think he is still a jackass?”

“Hit,” Felicity said to the dealer before answering Josh’s question. “I don’t think so...He isn’t a jackass to me.” The words sounded true because they were true. Oliver could be domineering, overprotective, and presumptuous, but he was also sweet, concerned, and clearly took the time to listen to her.

Josh scratched his jaw through his beard, which was one of his tells that he was thinking. “No one is perfect, Fee, and we all have histories and we make mistakes. If you like him, and he makes you happy, and he isn’t an asshole,” Josh emphasized that last point. “Then you should see where this goes. Maybe he is the guy that you want in your foxhole even if he use to be a jackass.”

Felicity had heard Josh’s theory on dating before. He believed that the point was to find a person that you wanted to be in a foxhole with when things got tough. Felicity had never exactly understood what he meant until now. During the kidnapping attempt that started all of this, she remembered telling Oliver the pass-code for the gate, and that moment when he chose to trust her, no questions asked. They were in a foxhole then and Felicity had not wanted anyone else there, and if she was in a foxhole in the future she wanted Oliver Queen to be the guy there with her.

Felicity answered more to herself than to Josh, “I know I want him in my foxhole.”

Josh shrugged his shoulders as if to say, well you have your answer then, and told the dealer he was holding at sixteen. Again, Felicity almost told Josh that he was making the wrong choice, and again Josh lost the hand. Felicity considered texting Daniel to tell him to come over and help Josh win.

Josh sighed as they started a new hand, “It kills you and Daniel that I am not a better card player doesn’t it?”

Felicity could feel her face blush with embarrassment. “You’re not that bad.” She looked at her new cards and the dealer’s up card and told the dealer to deal her another card. Josh did the same. Felicity held after the first card, but Josh looked ready to ask for another one. “Hold, Josh.”

“Not that bad, uh?” but Josh listened to her and told the dealer he was holding.

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little hard for us.” Felicity smiled at Josh, and added with a lot of affection, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Which is kind of my point. I am not saying that cheating and being bad at cards are exactly the same, but I know that Daniel would like it if I understood your competitiveness. I wish he would stop asking me if I am going back to school and finishing my degree.” Felicity nodded since she had heard both sides of this argument before. Josh continued, “I guess my point is good luck finding the perfect guy without issues in his past.”

“So, are you saying I should go apologize to Oliver for storming off?”

“Hell, no. The man didn’t tell you he cheated on his girlfriend with her little sister. You can let him stew for a few more hands. Anyway, it looks like Daniel is still giving him advice.” Josh nonchalantly gestured with one of his shoulders to where Oliver and Daniel were standing at the bar behind them. Both men were watching them, but they were also deep in conversation. “And, I can use a few more minutes of not having to follow Daniel around like a lapdog.”

“I’m sorry. I would have told him to let you off the hook on Wednesday if I had known how much you would hate this.” Felicity won the hand they were playing again. She was at almost five hundred dollars, and as far as she could tell Daniel hadn’t placed a single bet. She was totally going to win if the night continued like this.

“Dan tried camping, I can try to handle this.” Josh tried to smile, but it ended up being more of a shuddering frown.

“Some foxholes involve dirt and others dressing up,” said Felicity as she glance around the club. While his situation wasn’t not exactly her normal Friday night, she didn’t feel out of place or uncomfortable here. Yes, it had been intimidating at first, and scary when she felt the crowds waiting as she got out of the car, but that was more because she was with Oliver. If she had come to this benefit with Daniel she wouldn’t feel the same dread and anxiety that Josh was feeling. He clearly found this whole benefit terrify and intimidating.

“Yeah, I am beginning to think that dating involves finding the right person and the right foxhole.” Josh blew air out his lips. It was something between a sigh, and sad laugh. “I can handle Daniel’s mother’s judgment about my dad being the assistant manager at a grocery store. This…” Josh gestured at their surrounding and at his suit. “This isn’t a fucking foxhole I want to be in even with Daniel.”

Felicity nodded. Daniel may have bought Josh the suit because Daniel liked how Josh looked in it, but Felicity also knew that Daniel wanted Josh to feel like he belonged here. If Josh had come in the wrong clothes he would be even more anxious, and Daniel would have felt bad about it. She really hoped that Josh and Daniel could find the right foxhole.

“Thanks,” Felicity said it earnestly and hoped Josh understood that she meant for more than just sitting here with her.

“You’re welcome,” said Josh as he held up his empty beer bottle. “I’m going to get another round. And, Fee if he is a jackass, break up with him. I don’t care how rich or hot he is and it doesn’t matter that he looks at you like you are his north star. No one has got time for that jackass shit, and you deserve better.”

Josh gave a her a light hug, which she returned with the words that she couldn’t say, before going to get his beer. Felicity appreciated his advice because he was the only person in all of this that seemed to care first and foremost about her. Baba was too wrapped up in wanting grandbabies; Deda too concerned about her getting hurt by the Bratva; Daniel was too ambitious to miss that any relationship she had with Oliver would help Daniel; Digg and Sara clearly deferred to Oliver and what he wanted; and Thea and Tommy wanted Oliver to be happy. So far only Josh had told her that Oliver wasn’t worth it if he didn’t make her happy.

Josh’s seat stayed empty for the next several games, and Felicity gambled with chutzpah. She thought Josh might come back once he got his other beer, but it looked like he would rather chat with Sara. Felicity did wonder what they two of them had in common. Maybe they were talking about which bakery in Starling made the best chocolate chip cookies. Josh liked baked goods, and well Sara liked any vehicle for sugar.

Daniel gracefully slid into Josh’s seat and none too discreetly added up the chips before her. He whistled softly, “I am going to have to make up for lost time.”

Felicity smiled a little too sweetly, “I’m on a streak. You can’t catch me.”

“Yes I can because I am an evil mastermind.”

Felicity looked at Daniel in confusion, “We didn’t say that cheating was allowed.”

“I’m not cheating at cards, sweetheart. I’m calling in reinforcements.” Daniel said smugly and Felicity could feel concern seeping under her skin. Daniel was willing to go to almost any length to win, but he wasn’t inclined to brag unless he was totally sure of his impending success.

“Oh don’t scrunch your forehead like that, it causes wrinkles. And you will like these reinforcements. I promise.” As he was finishing speaking Felicity could feel someone approaching on her other side. Even before she looked up she knew it was Oliver from the comforting scent of his cologne to the familiar feel of him near her, Felicity was more aware of Oliver after a week than she was aware of Daniel and they had been friends for years.

Felicity looked up into Oliver’s shining eyes and could help, but smile just for him. He returned her grin with a private one of his own. Daniel laughed quietly to himself. Felicity and Oliver both ignored him.

Oliver reached his hand out to her, “Felicity would you dance with me?”

Daniel was an evil mastermind. He knew there was no way she was saying no to Oliver with his bright open eyes, small easy grin, and hopeful voice. Felicity could hear the slow melody of music, and the gentle tapping of shoes coming from the dance floor. She knew that her body would fit perfectly against Oliver’s as they swayed with the rhythm.

She collected her chips, and answered his question, “Yes Oliver, I will dance with you.” As she spoke she put her hand in Oliver’s, and trusted him to guide her away, but before he did she turned to Daniel, “I’ll be back Dan. It’s only one dance.”

Daniel looked at her with something in his eyes that was more serious than before. “No, Fee, it’s not.”

Daniel wasn’t talking about the dance, and Felicity realized Daniel was right. This thing with Oliver was more than just a dance. It was important enough to her that she would happily lose her bet with Daniel. Typical of Daniel to realize that and use it to his benefit to win.

Somehow in the last week, Oliver insinuated himself into her life and more importantly her heart. The last people that she let in so quickly and so absolutely had been her grandparents, and that had been less surprising. When she went to Deda with some files and more guts than common sense, she knew she was looking for help. It made her more open to accepting their love and support. It felt right to her to let her grandparents into her life, and it didn’t surprise her that they loved her.

But, Oliver was different. She had never expected that he would so quickly become the way that she defined happiness. She thought back to the night of the kidnapping and wondered when she opened a door in her guarded heart for him. It wasn’t the moment when he appeared in the garage ready to protect her. It also wasn’t the moment when he said that he wouldn’t let her be forced into a marriage against her will. No, it was the moment that he offered to carry her up the stairs and then stood by her when she refused. It was the way that he listened to her when she let go of her pride and asked for help, and his gentle kindness to her as he talked about his family to distract her from her discomfort.

She didn’t know it then, but that was the moment she let Oliver into her heart. She wanted to be terrified of that decision, to tell herself to keep her guard up, but she couldn’t go back and unmake it. Whatever happened from here on out, her feelings for Oliver would be a factor in her actions. If Daniel was right, and she could be Leo’s heir, she would no longer be a pawn in the Bratva, but Oliver would have to accept her decision. Felicity could choose Oliver, and ignore the Bratva, but, it would mean staying a pawn and depending on him to keep her safe.

Felicity shook the thoughts out of her head, and focused on the moment. These things could wait.

Oliver guided her out on to the dance floor, and with practiced ease took her right hand in his left. His right hand was suppose to cup her shoulder. Instead he stretched it across her back, so his fingers could rest on her bare skin there. He pulled her closer to him than was strictly proper. She settled her own left hand in the space between his shoulder blades and shivered as she felt his muscles tense from her touch even through the layers of clothing.

The band started up with the perfect music for a slow waltz and Oliver effortlessly led them around the dance floor. He was a natural dancer, though Felicity could tell he had taken lessons. He held his arms correctly and signaled their turns perfectly. She had danced with enough men to know when she was dancing with someone who knew how to lead.

“I should have said this before I asked you to dance. I am sorry I didn’t tell you about Sara.” Oliver whispered into her ear as they twirled around the other couples.

Felicity heard him, but she was distracted by the lovely way that his breath tickled her ear as he whispered to her. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes when she didn’t answer immediately.

She giggled at his very worried look, “I am not angry Oliver. I knew you had been sleeping with Sara until recently.” Oliver’s eyes closed up, and he pressed his lips together in steely resolve. “Sara and I talked about it. And I trust you and know it won’t happen while we are together. I just hadn’t realized you started sleeping with her while you were still with Laurel.”

“While we are together?” Oliver positively beamed as he repeated back her words. Before she could answer, he added, “Dip?” Felicity hesitantly nodded yes, and Oliver confidentially dipped her. He used the dip to plant a flirtatious kiss right below her left ear.

When they were gliding around the dance floor again Felicity pressed her cheek into his chest and listened to his heartbeat. “I don’t know what we are Oliver, but I know that there is something between us, so yeah, while we are together I trust you not to cheat on me.” She sighed against the comforting warmth of him. “But, you know, feel free to tell me if you slept with any of your other ex-girlfriends’ sisters.”

Oliver’s breath caught in his chest, and she could feel him lightly kiss the top of her head. “I only made that particular mistake once.” Oliver held her closer as they danced. “Daniel told me that I should trust you to be reasonable. He said you were probably most upset about the surprise.”

Felicity nodded slightly, and then realized that Oliver couldn’t actually see her movement. “Yeah...it just made me realize I want to be in a foxhole with you.”

“What?” asked Oliver.

Felicity giggled at his confusion. “I’ll explain it to you someday.”

“Okay.”

The music stopped, and Oliver smoothly brought them to a halt on the middle of the dance floor. He released Felicity just enough to that she could turn slightly towards the bandstand and clap with the other guests.

Felicity turned back to Oliver, and said “Thanks for the da--

As she spoke a window on the far wall shattered, and glass cascaded down on the club, like deadly, chiming raindrops. People must have screamed, but Felicity only had eyes and ears for Oliver. Nothing else registered.

Felicity felt the gun shot before she heard it, and watched its impact in his chest push Oliver to the floor, a bloody crimson puddle blooming on the snowy white of his dress shirt, like a newly discovered oil well.

That’s when the screaming started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. 
> 
> If it helps, the next chapter is written and just needs to be edited. I plan on posting it in two weeks, which seems to be the posting schedule that I can manage with work and life. 
> 
> As always I love hearing what you think and appreciate that you guys are still out there reading. Thanks, and see you on the flip side!


	14. Chapter 14

Felicity sat in the private waiting room, holding Thea’s hand. Felicity knew rationally she was in shock, and she assumed Thea was in a similar state. They both had not spoken since Digg ushered them into the room, told them Oliver would be fine, and instructed Roy to stay at the door and not let anyone in. 

The waiting room was stereotypically mundane and drab. The chairs were uncomfortable, the art inoffensive, and the smell distinctly hospital. None of it was reassuring. 

Felicity pulled Digg’s coat closer around her shoulders because she was shivering, and tried to remember what had happened after Oliver was shot. It was all a blur, but she recalled that Digg and Sara somehow materialized next to her, guns drawn, and unreadable looks on their faces. Digg put pressure on Oliver’s wound until the paramedics arrived. She hazily remembered hearing Tommy say that he would handle everything in the club as Sara herded Felicity and Thea into the waiting Rolls Royce. 

Felicity couldn’t remember much of the car ride, just Thea’s terrified frozen face, and the younger woman’s crushing grip as she held Felicity’s hand. Felicity wasn’t sure where they were, what hospital this was or where Oliver was, but Digg and Sara seemed to know what they were doing, and Roy followed their directions. 

Felicity didn’t think it had been more than thirty minutes since she was dancing with Oliver, but time went weird with the gunshot and she wasn’t sure of anything at the moment. 

“Sorry….Sorry….Felicity,” Felicity looked up to see Roy standing before her and realized he had been trying to talk to her. She nodded at him to continue, but it took him a few tries before he went on, “Uh….Daniel Gagarin and Mr. Durov are at the door. Digg said I should ask you if you wanted them in here.”

Felicity took a deep breath, and willed the oxygen to calm her nerves and relax her muscles. It didn’t really work, but it was centering and let her find the focus to concentrate on what Roy said. 

She answered after another deep breath and told Roy to let them in. It came out like more of a command than Felicity intended so she added a please at the end. Roy either didn’t seem to notice her curt answer and subsequent additional politeness, or react like it was odd for her to be giving him a command.

Roy nodded and crossed to the door. Daniel and Mr. Durov came in as soon as Roy released the lock, and they were trailed by a short and stout older man in a tuxedo. Felicity vaguely recognized him as one of the people Oliver had introduced her to at the party. 

Thea barely looked up when they came in, but Felicity stood to greet the men. Daniel offered her a warm, supportive hug, which she returned. When Daniel released her, Felicity shook Mr. Durov’s hand. He was dressed casually, in slightly rumpled khaki and a pilled, navy blue wool sweater. He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but his face mostly just conveyed his worry and exhaustion. 

The shorter man put out his hand for her to shake and Felicity appreciated his brisk, secure nod of greeting that accompanied the handshake. “Ms. Smoak. Jim McNeil. We met earlier tonight, and last year you recovered all my files after I spilled coffee on my laptop.” 

Felicity nodded because she did remember, and the reference was enough for her to recognize him as QC’s COO. Normally he wore well broken in jeans, old cowboy boots and threadbare flannel, and spent his time in an office that could double as a corporate obstacle course with its precarious stacks of files, old coffee cups, and legal pads filled with notes. 

“Thank you for coming Mr. McNeil.” Felicity wasn’t exactly sure what else to add. This was an entirely novel and undesired experience. 

“Jim, please.” He looked to where Thea was still sitting huddled in an uncomfortable hospital chair. “I need to speak to Ms. Queen.”

“Of course.” Even before Felicity spoke, Jim was walking over to Thea. He took the seat next to her and started to speak softly. Felicity couldn’t make out what he was saying, but Roy went to stand by Thea. Felicity trusted that he would call her over if the younger woman needed her. Mr. Durov and Daniel closed in on her as soon as Jim’s attention was on Thea.

Felicity spoke quietly so that she would not be overheard, “I assume Jim McNeil does not know about the Bratva.” Mr. Durov nodded that her assumption was correct. She continued, “Okay, any word on Oliver?” This time Mr. Durov shook his head. Felicity took another deep breath and reminded herself to not think about how white Oliver’s face was when the paramedics arrived. 

Before Felicity could move on to her next question Thea called for her. Felicity walked over to Thea without excusing herself from the conversation with Mr. Durov and Daniel. 

As soon as Thea saw that she had Felicity’s attention, she spoke to Jim loudly enough for Felicity to hear, “Jim talk to Felicity about the QC stuff. I am going to call my mom.” Thea turned to Felicity specifically, “My mom has been trying to reach me according to Jim.”

Jim pulled at his bowtie and looked at Felicity uncomfortably, “Thea, I appreciate that Ms. Smoak is an excellent QC employee. However, these matters pertain to the company’s health in light of Mr. Queen’s…” Jim paused and continued more diplomatically, “In light of tonight’s event the public and investors need reassurances. While your mother will be calling the Board of Directors, you are the only member of the Queen family here, and should act accordingly.”

As Jim kept talking Thea’s face became more rigid and Felicity could feel herself losing the little control of her emotions she had managed to recover since Oliver was shot. Felicity balled her fists, and held her tongue until Jim was finished. Felicity spoke before Thea could, “Jim I appreciate that your foremost concern is for the health of QC. However, Thea and I both just watched Oliver get shot. Neither of us, especially Thea after losing her father, is in a place to worry about QC at the moment. We trust that you know what needs to be done. Please forward your plan to Mr. Durov, who will set up a meeting for you with Thea if necessary.”

Jim sputtered twice at Felicity, and her decision to stop him from pressuring Thea into being the public face of the Queens. Thea’s lips had relaxed and her eyes lost their fiery edge, but it was clear from her rigid spine and controlled breathing that she would explode if there was a spark. Felicity knew that if Jim kept talking he would set Thea off so Felicity pretended for a moment that she was Baba. She imagined exactly the face that Baba would make to end this conversation. It was one part “hell, no” and two parts “try me, bitch.” It didn’t exactly feel natural for Felicity, but she must have made it work. Jim closed his mouth and squinted at her like she was a new variety of insect that he needed to learned how to exterminate. 

Mr. Durov quickly injected himself between Jim McNeil and Felicity and led Jim towards the door. Felicity trusted that Mr. Durov would smooth over any feathers that she ruffled. Dan passed them in the doorway. He had found coffee somewhere, and Felicity considered promising to name her firstborn after him as a thank you.

“Jim McNeil is a world class COO,” Dan said as he handed Felicity her coffee. “But, it means that his brain doesn’t have space left for plebeian things like feelings.”

Thea held her cup between her hands like she was trying to get warm in the depths of winter. She did laugh brusquely at Daniel’s comment, which Felicity considered to be a good sign. Felicity sipped her coffee and tried to look like she had everything under control so Thea would relax. 

Mr. Durov came back in with Diggle and Sara, and a man in blue scrubs who introduced himself as Dr. Mitchell. He thoroughly explained that Oliver would be fine. He had suffered some blood loss, and was in surgery right now to clean out the gunshot, and get patched up.

Felicity thought she understood, but she had to ask anyway. “You’re sure he will be fine?”

“Yes. Mr. Queen was very lucky. Hell of a thing for a shot like that not to do more damage. The bullet missed everything vital. It broke one of his ribs, but it looks like that has happened before. He should be in recovery in about an hour and you can see him there.” 

Felicity thanked the doctor. Thea didn’t say anything, but she stood up and let Roy hug her. Roy looked relieved by her actions and Felicity trusted that it meant the younger woman would be okay.

After the doctor left, Roy spoke up softly to Thea, “You should call your mom and tell her.” Thea nodded into his chest, but instead of reaching for her phone she turned in Roy’s arms so that she could meet Felicity’s eyes. 

“This was the Bratva, wasn’t it?” Thea asked it like a question, but it was clear that she knew the answer. 

Felicity was the only one who would look Thea in the eyes. “Yes...probably. We don’t know for sure...but, yes this was the Bratva.” Thea nodded. She didn’t look scared, but Felicity could tell Thea was thinking. 

“Is this what Oliver was trying to protect me from?”

Felicity considered how to answer Thea’s question because this was a real question that deserved an honest answer. “Probably...maybe...there are many ways for the Bratva to hurt family and loved ones.” Felicity swallowed her growing dread, and continued. “Call your mom. I need to deal with some Bratva business. When I am done I will tell you about my family and the way the Bratva destroyed it.”

Thea’s eyes lit with curiosity and her lips parted slightly like she wanted to ask for the story now. She stopped though and nodded and Felicity before pulling Roy with her out of the waiting room to call her mother. 

Felicity sighed, and ignored Mr. Durov’s genuine look of concern. Daniel laid his hand gently on her shoulder and Digg crossed him arms and looked ready to do what he could to help her. Only Sara’s body language did not change, and Felicity realized she must not know the story of Anton and Paul Zalutsky. 

Felicity shook her head, and willed herself to deal with their imminent problems. “Do we know who this was? I think it is remarkably suspicious that Oliver wasn’t seriously hurt or…” She could not bring herself to say it, so she shifted questions. “Was the shooter aiming for him?” 

Sara coughed slightly and it sounded fake even to Felicity. “I...uh, I have a friend looking into where the shot came from and who it was aimed at.” 

Felicity was intrigued by Sara’s apparent nerves. The fake cough to cover the emotion in her voice, and the slight tint of pink to Sara’s cheeks made Felicity think that there might be more to this friend. She wished that she had time to poke and pry into Sara’s private life, but she didn’t right now. 

“Does your friend know what he is doing?” Felicity inquired. She wanted to also ask if they could trust this friend, but she wasn’t sure how Sara would react to that question. 

Sara laughed harshly, “Trust me. She knows more about assassinations than you can begin to imagine and she won’t betray me.”

Felicity nodded and accepted Sara’s assurance. “Okay. Do you think the shooter was Bratva?”

Digg answered quickly, “No. A hired gun. Not many snipers in the Bratva, but plenty of people who know how to hire one.”

Felicity grimaced in agreement  
with Digg’s analysis. “Yeah...lets hope for a money trail I can find and follow. In the meantime, how concerned are you about security?”

Digg and Sara had a fast and silent conversations with twitches and lifted eyebrows. It was Digg who answered her question, “We really don’t have the personal to keep full security details on everyone outside the Mansion, especially if we are dealing with the type of assassin that would take that shot.”

Felicity reached up to rub her eyes and remembered it would smudge her mascara, which probably wouldn’t matter given the blood splatter on her dress, but she stopped anyway and settled for pushing her hair back instead. “Yeah, I figured that might be the case. I have a solution, but it’s going to take a little while, and I need to go in person.” 

Sara and Digg had another one of their wordless conversations, while Daniel tried to get her attention. He clearly had some idea of what her plan was. Mr. Durov kept quiet, but observed her attentively. This time Sara spoke, “I’m staying with Oliver. If he is the target I have a better chance of stopping another assassination attempt. Digg is with you. If you can convince Thea to go home that would be best for security, but Roy and I can keep an eye on her here.”

“I don’t think Thea will agree to leave, at least not before she sees Oliver,” observed Felicity. She wanted to ask Sara why she was better qualified to prevent an assassin from getting near Oliver, but Felicity knew this wasn’t the time for a discussion about Sara’s background. Felicity trusted Digg and he agreed with Sara, so that would be the plan. Felicity continued. “Let’s plan on Thea staying here. Okay, finally, has anyone talked to my grandparents?”

Felicity assumed someone had informed Deda about what had happened and not because Felicity was standing next to Oliver when he was shot. No this had all the signs of being the start of a serious Bratva succession war. Felicity gasped with realization, but it might have sounded like pain because Sara tensed. Felicity waved off Sara’s look of concern, “I just had an idea about the motivation for the shooting. I’ll explain once I can look into it. Do my grandparents know what is going on? The rest of the Bratva?

Mr. Durov answered this time, “I spoke with Leo on my way over. He and Sophie will be here tomorrow, and I am suppose to tell you that they don’t care if you don’t need them. They need to see you. They also asked that you call them when you can. Needless to say their presence here will make security an even higher priority. As for the rest of the Bratva, the shooting is already all over the news and gossip websites.”

It would be all but impossible to keep the shooting quiet. However she did wonder how many of the other captains would assume that it had anything to do with the Bratva. Probably all the smart ones. Felicity also waved off Mr. Durov’s concern about security, “I will have it handled. They can stay at my apartment.” It was secure, and with her staying at the mansion, Leo and Sophie would have their privacy.

Digg interrupted, “No, they will stay at the Queen Estate.” 

“I am the Queens’ guest, Digg. I can’t very well invite my family to stay. It’s rude!” Digg laughed at her clear distress and Felicity realized she was still fighting off shock and the exhaustion that wanted to replace it. Digg was probably just concerned about security and his limited resources. She sighed, “See if it’s okay with Thea and Raisa.”

“Trust me, Felicity, you can invite your grandparents to stay at the Queen estate anytime you want,” replied Digg. “But, I’ll let Thea and Raisa know.”

She could feel a headache coming on if she thought to hard about Digg’s statements so she just ignored it. “Is there anything else?”

She met each one of their eyes, but they all shook their heads. “Okay, Dan are you coming with me? Is Josh here?”

Daniel closed his eyes for a quick, telling moment, “Josh said this wasn’t his foxhole.”

“Oh...I’m sorry.” She put a hand on his arm, but wasn’t sure what else to do. Felicity wished she could think of something better to say. Daniel deserved her full attention and empathy, and she couldn’t give it to him right now. 

Daniel smiled at her weakly, “It will keep for the time being. Yes, I am going with you.”

“Good, maybe your mother will let me into the house if you are with me.”

*****

Daniel glanced around the idling Rolls Royce, “It’s weird to be sitting outside my parents house like a stalker.” He ran his hands over the Rolls Royce’s leather interior. “A rich stalker...like Christian Grey.”

That got Felicity’s attention. She looked up from the laptop that she had been working on,“Do you really want to compare yourself to Christian Grey?”

“If the fanfiction fits. What is taking you so long?” Daniel asked with a hint of impatience. Digg sat quietly in the front, acting like an adult. 

It wasn't the same as working on her own machine, but it was back at the Queen Mansion. Once Thea was off the phone with her mother, Felicity told Thea that she had to leave to deal with some Bratva business. Thea had nodded and promised to listen to Sara and stay with Oliver so he wasn’t alone. After they left the hospital, Felicity had convinced Digg to stop at QC headquarters where she borrowed one of the laptops in her office that was suppose to be assigned to a new hire. Oliver would smooth it over, or Jim McNeil would fire her. She didn’t really give a shit if that happened. 

“A few more seconds. I know, it is there…It should be easy to find.” Felicity chewed on her lower lip. “Easy! I need to think like I am stupid.”

Daniel and Digg both looked at her like she was losing the little bit of sanity that she still had. Neither of them asked what she was talking about. She had already told them this would be faster if they kept their questions to a minimum. 

“GOT IT!” Daniel and Digg both laughed at her attempt at triumphantly raising her fist that was hampered by the car’s roof. She rubbed her fingers as she closed up the computer and put back on her heels. Daniel took her computer bag for her. When Digg realized she was ready to go he got out of the car and came over to open her door. He was a picture perfect example of a chauffeur.

Felicity thanked Digg as she got out, and she waited for Daniel to come around before starting up the manicured walk to the front door of his childhood home. Felicity had been here many times since moving to Starling, but she still always enjoyed the house’s classic columns, symmetrical windows, stately shutters, and cheerful red door. She always thought that it looked like a house that a doctor or the owner of a car dealership would live in. It didn’t seem like the house of someone who made their living via organized crime. 

Daniel walked with her, and Digg was two steps behind. Felicity had considered calling to tell Maksim to stay up since he liked to go to bed early. She had decided to keep her visit a surprise and Daniel had not asked if he should let his parents know they would be dropping in. He rang the doorbell and stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“I don’t think that I have ever actually rung the doorbell before.” Daniel observed while they waited. 

They didn’t have to wait long. The dogs barking signalled at that someone was coming, and Susie, in her elegant cashmere robe and honeyed-blonde newscaster helmut hair, opened the door holding Kona back. Felicity grinned at the worst guard dog ever, who only barked at people because he wanted to love them to death. 

Susie quickly took in Daniel’s tuxedo, now missing the bowtie, Felicity’s blood splattered gown, and Digg’s rolled up shirtsleeves, and her face lost a bit of color. Susie was too polite to let her eyes harden, or allow any rudeness in her voice when she spoke. “Daniel, Felicity come in.” 

Susie ushered them into the formal entryway and closed the door behind Digg. She let Kona go, and he launched himself at Daniel, who caught the black lab in a practiced move. Felicity bent down to pet the more reserved miniature poodle. 

“You must be here to speak with Maksim.” Susie’s voice was uninviting and firm. For the first time in her visits here, Felicity would not be required to exchange small talk about the best sales in town with Susie. 

Daniel put down the dog, who moved on to seeing if Digg would pet him. Daniel gave his mother a light kiss on her cheek, “The library would probably be best.”

Susie gripped his arm so tightly her fingers were digging into the starched wool of Daniel’s jacket. Susie wouldn’t say anything about her son’s choices as long as Felicity and Digg could overhear the conversation, so Susie was trying to push her worry and condemnation through layers of fabric, skin, and muscle.

Susie let go of Daniel’s arm when it was clear that he wasn’t going to receive her telepathic message. Her voice remained tight when she spoke, “You know the way. Your father will be down shortly. Would you like tea? Coffee?” 

Felicity answered for all of them, “Tea would be wonderful. I’m sorry for dropping in so rudely and so late.” It wasn’t even midnight yet, but both Susie and Maksim were early risers and went to bed at a correspondingly early hour. Daniel liked to tease them about it. 

Susie lips thinned into a poor approximation of a smile, but she didn’t formally accept Felicity’s apology. Felicity made sure not to show any reaction to Susie’s behavior since she hadn’t been expecting a warm welcome. Susie called the dogs to her as she walked towards the kitchen. The lab looked forlornly at Daniel, who let the dog go. It was sort of awkward to look professional while trying to corral an eighty pound animal who thought he was a lapdog. 

In light of his mother’s behavior, Daniel directed the group into the library, which was really Maksim’s home office, but Susie refused to acknowledge that her husband did work at home. Calling the room euphemistically the library was a sufficient compromise for Susie’s rules. It was impossible to understand a marriage that depended on so many compromises and euphemisms to survive. 

Digg found a corner with a good view of the windows, door, and enough space  
to stand ominously in, with his his arms crossed. Felicity and Daniel settled on the overstuffed couch leaving Maksim his preferred wingback chair. 

Felicity whispered to Daniel while they waited, “I am sure she will get over it.” Daniel gave her a hard look. Felicity added with a little huff, “Someday.”

Before Daniel could say anything, Maksim shuffled into the library still half asleep. They must have woken him up given his droopy eyes, creased plaid flannel pajamas, casual wool cardigan and fleece lined moccasins. 

Maksim quickly took in Digg’s no nonsense posture, Felicity’s ruined dress, and Daniel’s pallid face. His posture improved instantly, and his eyes woke up. He waved off Daniel and Felicity, “Don’t stand.” 

Felicity followed Maksim’s direction, but Daniel ignored his father so he could give him a hug. Maksim maybe lingered a second longer than normal and Daniel didn’t try to pull away. 

Maksim took his favorite seat, “What happened? I was asleep and Cash doesn’t like to earn your mother’s wrath.”

Daniel didn’t bother to laugh at Maksim’s weak joke. “Oliver was shot at the CNRI benefit. He is in surgery.” Daniel continued before his father could ask the obvious question. “He should be fine.”

“So long as no one else tries to kill him right now.” Both Maksim and Daniel turned to look at Felicity. “Bratva captains are better than sharks at sensing blood in the water and easy prey.”

Maksim laughed slightly, “So why are you here? I’m curious, as one shark to another.”

Felicity couldn’t help but return his toothy grin. She liked Maksim Gargarin when he treated her like an equal. She didn’t trust him, but she knew that he would push her to be smarter and he would respect her when she beat him. She earned Maksim’s esteem, and he was a dinosaur when it came to Bratva tradition. Maybe Daniel was right--maybe she really could be pakhan.

Susie came in with the tea tray, and poured for everyone. Susie didn’t ask how Felicity would like it doctored. Susie was the type of hostess who always remembered people’s preferences and dislikes. Felicity hadn’t really wanted tea, but it was comforting to hold the cup like normal and breath in the familiar english breakfast blend that Susie liked to serve guests. 

Felicity took a sip of tea before returning to the conversation. She looked directly at Maksim when she spoke. “I’m here because you’re the one who put a contract out on Oliver’s life.”

Susie’s teacup clattered on to the saucer she was primly holding beneath it. Shock and then livid anger flickered across Susie’s face before she locked her emotions down in a look of civil concern that did not reach her eyes. The spilled tea and blistering fury in her eyes was proof of her reaction. 

Maksim’s face blanched to a ghostly white, making his thick five o’clock shadow more pronounced and ominous. He looked old for the first time in Felicity’s memory. Felicity heard his sharp intake of breath, and his effort to recover his normal control in the silence that followed her announcement. 

Daniel tensed, but his face stayed calm and impassive. The only reason that his reaction was not more pronounced was because Daniel trusted her. Digg had not relaxed when they entered the Gagarin home, and if it was possible he was even more alert now. Like Daniel, it was also clear that Digg trusted her to keep this situation manageable. 

Her statement had gone off like a bomb, now she had to clean up the explosion. “Supposedly.”

It took Daniel and Susie a second to understand what Felicity was saying. Maksim understood immediately though, “Someone is framing me. They want you to think that I am taking out the competition.”

Daniel relaxed noticeably, but Susie’s rage seemed to grow as she realized that someone had put her husband in danger. Felicity nodded, and put down her tea before reaching for the laptop that Daniel had set near her feet. She pulled up the bank transfers that she had been looking for in the car and turned the screen so Maksim could see. He quickly read through the information and rubbed his eyes. 

“Well whoever the son of a bitch is, they think you and I are idiots.”

“Yes.” There was almost no attempt to hide the payment of a million dollars from one of Maksim’s oversea accounts to another overseas account. It hadn’t taken Felicity long to figure out that the second account was just a front itself. However, it became much less clear after that. She was going to need substantially more time than twenty minutes in the back seat of a car to figure out who was behind this plot. 

“If I was going to pay someone to kill Queen, I would have hidden the evidence better.”

“I know,” and Felicity did know that. She didn’t trust Maksim to not try and kill Oliver, but if he did he would be smarter about it. 

“So young lady, have you figured out who needs a visit from me and Mr. Diggle?”

Felicity frowned with disappointment. “Not yet...they know what they are doing when it comes to hiding their tracks.”

Maksim sighed, “Of course they do. Their plan shows a certain…”

“Evil mastermind flair?” said Daniel, as he finished his father’s thought. “Fee, do you think that my dad was the ultimate target?”

Maksim answered the question, “I think this is about you, Felicity.”

She nodded in agreement, and explained her thinking, “My friendship with Daniel isn’t a secret, and if something happened to Oliver, it would make sense for me to come to you for help. Unless of course there was some reason that I would think that you were to blame for Oliver being hurt. In that case I would find myself without any strong allies.”

Daniel picked up on Felicity’s reasoning, “Or if you decided to avenge Oliver, all of a sudden you’ve plunged yourself into a war with one of your likeliest supporters. or if Dad decided to take advantage of Oliver being hurt, then he would force you and Leo to act.”

Maksim was the one who finished, “Anyway this plays out, it was meant to destroy both Queen and my operation, and leave Felicity without support. The evil mastermind, as you put it son, was counting on Felicity not doing her homework, and instead jumping to conclusions.”

Maksim drained his teacup. When neither Felicity or Daniel spoke Maksim said what everyone was thinking. “Evil mastermind’s plan is going to fucking backfire on him. I may not like Queen, but I will be damned if I am manipulated or fucked over by some evil shithead.”

Maksim normally didn’t curse in mixed company. He considered it the height of rudeness. His disregard about reigning in his language proved just how upset he was. Felicity assumed Susie was equally upset because she didn’t call her husband on his vulgarity. 

Felicity took a page from Maksim’s book when she spoke. “In that case, the best way to screw this evil mastermind over is to work with Oliver and me.”

Maksim didn’t look surprised by her suggestion. He knew that a common enemy often made for strange bedfellows. Daniel posture was relaxed, and Felicity realized that he was enjoying watching her negotiate with his father. Probably payback for all the times she had laughed when Deda beat him at chess. Digg was still on high alert, and Susie clutched her tea cup with so much pent up emotion that Felicity was concerned the cup was going to shatter. 

“I’m not giving Oliver any information about his father,” Maksim huffed.

“I am not asking you too.” Felicity replied, reminding herself to be patient. She knew that dealing with Maksim would require some quick thinking, clever communication, and determined listening. Even backed into a corner the man was too smart and too tricky to underestimate.

“What if I was behind this, and am just trying to make you think it was someone else?” Maksim asked. This conversation was now an unexpected test. 

“First, it’s not your style. Second, you wouldn’t risk Leo and I actually taking issue with you.” Felicity glanced at Susie. She didn’t need to say what both she and Maksim knew. The glance was enough for Maksim to follow Felicity’s train of thought .Susie would never ever forgive her husband for doing anything that put him in such clear conflict with Leo. Susie despised Leo with a passion she reserved for people who used the wrong fork at dinner, and wore white after Labor Day. As much as she disliked him, she was far more scared of him. 

Maksim nodded slightly and conceded the point. “You are also assuming that I don’t want to take advantage of this opportunity.”

Felicity cringed at Maksim referring to Oliver being shot as an opportunity. He was right, but that didn’t make it sting any less. She was here because even if Maksim didn’t take advantage of this opportunity, other captains would. Whoever thought up this plan, wanted to keep Felicity and Leo on the defensive. The smartest thing she could do now was shore up support, and establish solid defenses. 

“You aren’t threatened by Oliver being a captain, and living in Starling City. If you were, you would have forced him out as soon as he came back from Russia. And as I already said, you don’t want to piss off Leo. Your only issue with Oliver is that you are worried he might become pakhan,” explained Felicity. 

As far as she could tell, it was the only reason that another captain might have an issue with Oliver. Captains tended to be ambitious and violent; a combination that lead to dramatic challenges and hidden attacks. Oliver did not participate in any of that since he left Russia. That had changed last week. Until he decided to protect Felicity he was a minor annoyance, like a horse who couldn’t make it out of the gate as far as the other captains were concerned. Now, all of a sudden he was a contender for the title, and it was Felicity’s fault. 

“You’re right that I don’t think Queen has what it takes to be pakhan,” said Maksim.

Felicity responded immediately, “ You may be right about Oliver, but what you really want is to make sure that Zakharov doesn’t become pakhan. You will back the horse that has the best chance of beating him, even if it’s Oliver. You would back him if he was your only alternative.”

Now it was Maksim’s turn to laugh mockingly, “You assume I am far more interested in this race than I actually am. I don’t have a horse in this race since my son still insists he is gay.”

Daniel started to open his mouth to have the same fight with his father that they had been having for nine years, but Felicity cut him off. Her ears burned with a rage that shot through her nerve endings and overloaded her brain and killed her common sense. She tried to rein in her anger, but she responded before she got full control.

“Bullshit on a stick. You are an idiot.” Felicity took a breath, but there was no stopping now. “Daniel would be an excellent captain and a hell of a better pakhan than Oliver, which we all know. You’re the only person who thinks that his liking dick makes him incompetent. More than that, you and the other captains, let your bigotry and misogyny blind you. You all assume that the next pakhan will be the man I marry. You make me the key to getting power, yet presume I can’t wield that authority and more importantly don’t know how to use it. You might not have a horse in this race, but I do Maksim, and it’s not Oliver Queen.” 

Felicity swallowed and added that only thing left that needed to be said, “And, I plan on winning.”

Digg looked floored by Felicity’s bold promise. His tells were subtle, but Felicity saw him rock back on his feet slightly and shake his head once. He had not heard Daniel’s plan before, and clearly he still mostly thought of her as the sort of awkward, often shy, and clearly insecure twenty-one year old that he had danced with at Baba’s command.

Susie’s wide eyes, and rushed breathing gave away her surprise. It was the unadulterated look of panic and worry that she gave Daniel, followed by a look of equal contempt for Felicity that set the younger blonde’s nerves on edge. Susie didn’t really care who was the next pakhan as along as that person left Daniel and Maksim alone. Susie knew that if Felicity did win, Daniel would be standing next to her. 

Maksim and Daniel shared the same smug grin, and superior air. They had never looked so much alike before and it was unsettling that their family resemblance was most noticeable when they were basking in their win. Daniel was right that his father had thought about the idea of Felicity succeeding Leo before, and that was even more deeply unsettling. Felicity began to rethink all of her interactions with Maksim. 

“When did you first think that I would succeed my grandfather?” Felicity directed her question to Maksim.

He grinned with satisfaction. Maybe it was because of her correct guess that Maksim had been betting on her for a while, or maybe it was because he liked that she was only now realizing he had been playing the long game. 

“I knew the first time we played cards that you had the brains for it, but I wasn’t sure until Saturday that you had the balls. And now I am sure that you have the fire. It would be better if you were a man.” Felicity scowled at Maksim. He sighed, “You know it’s true. If your Uncle Anton was alive, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“If my Uncle Anton was alive, hell, if my Uncle Paul was alive, I wouldn’t be dealing with you.” Felicity was losing what little patience she had for dealing with Maksim’s crap tonight. She wanted to get back to the hospital before Oliver woke up. “ Bottom line, Maksim, do you want to work with me to figure out who is framing you, and trying to leave me without support? It’s your choice, and I won’t forget your decision.”

The last part wasn’t a threat. Well, it wasn’t a threat exactly, though based on Susie’s narrowed eyes, Felicity was sure she heard it as such. Maksim maintained his causal openness that he had affected since recovering from the surprise of realizing that someone was trying to frame him. He didn’t respond to it like a threat, but he also didn’t answer immediately. Felicity bit her tongue and willed herself to out wait him.

“I’ll work with you, and I’ll bet on you winning this race.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this helps with the heart attack from the last chapter's ending. Thanks for reading, and since I have given up sugar for the Lent, kudos are pretty much the sweetest thing in my life right now!


	15. Chapter 15

Once Maksim agreed to work with Felicity it didn’t take long to get the details ironed out. Maksim would provide Digg with the extra men that he needed to for security and Maksim would let Cash help Felicity track down who had planted the false bank transfers. In return Felicity would make sure that the Bratva knew that she trusted Maksim. Neither of them discussed whether this trust and working relationship would extend so far as Maksim supporting Felicity’s bid for pakhan, but both knew that the rest of the Bratva would interpret their deal that way.

Maksim and Felicity did butt heads about who was going to deal with the culprit when they caught him. Felicity refused to cede the duty to Maksim because she knew that it would send a message to the other captains that she didn’t do her own dirty work. That said, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to dealing with the situation. She was pretty sure that putting the jackass on the no fly list was not going to be enough to satisfy Maksim’s anger. If she was honest with herself, it wasn’t enough to satisfy her anger. This asshat shot Oliver to hurt her. 

The only real sour note was when Susie excused herself from the meeting and coldly did not say goodbye to Daniel or Felicity. Daniel had shrugged his shoulders and Maksim had pressed his lips together, but no one commented on her blatant rudeness. Neither Daniel or Felicity tried to talk about it after they left his parents house. Felicity wasn’t going to tell Daniel that he made the wrong choice. She needed him too much, and more importantly she respected that he was an adult who knew the repercussions of his choice. She still felt bad that his loyalty to her, and ambition to show up his father, put him at odds with his mother. 

Daniel insisted they stop at the the drive through at McDonald’s on their way back to the hospital. Felicity protested that they needed to get back. Thea had texted while they were at Maksim’s saying that Oliver was out of surgery and still asleep. She also complained that he was going to force her to break her five year streak of not eating drive through. Dan refused to back down, and told her “Fast food calories are better than no calories.” Digg actually agreed with him, and they all got burgers and mcfrosties. 

By the time they arrived at the hospital, smelling faintly of french fries, Felicity appreciated that the guys insisted on the food and the second wind she was getting from the calories. It wasn’t that late, at least in comparison to nights where she stayed up late coding, but the last few hours had been much more stressful than hanging out on her couch with her favorite computer. Felicity knew she had one more trial before she could close the book on the day. 

An orderly lead them to the private room that Oliver had been moved to when he was stable after the surgery. Sara was pacing aimlessly in front of the door. She nodded at all of them and opened the door for Daniel and Felicity. Felicity was relieved that Sara seemed relax, but wary. Felicity squeezed her arm in a silent thanks and then let her go to talk to Digg. 

Felicity didn’t run to Oliver’s bed. She was too tired and her heels were simply too high for such dramatics, but she did pick up her pace. Something about seeing him, even in the bad hospital light, and hearing him breathing, even if it was punctuated by the electronic staccato of monitors and machines, finally let Felicity’s heart settle. She brushed his hair back and traced his jawline, and felt for the first time all night, like it was all going to be okay. It was totally cheesy, and made her feel codependent, but it was true. 

Thea cleared her throat with enough force to make it apparent that she was trying to get Felicity’s attention. Thea and Roy were both sitting in chairs that looked like the waiting room’s even more uncomfortable rejects. That hadn’t stopped Roy from falling asleep with his head resting on Thea’s shoulder. She was awake, but relaxed with her heels long since abandoned and her feet propped on her brother’s bed. 

“Nothing has changed since my texts. Doctors think the stuff that they used to put him under for surgery will be wearing off soon. They think he should be able to go home on Sunday.” Thea sighed, and continued. “Both Raisa and I assume he will check himself out in the morning.”

“Can he do that?” asked Felicity, slightly surprised that anyone would want to leave the hospital so soon after surgery.

Thea sighed again, more dramatically and rolled her eyes with flair, “Oliver doesn’t like hospitals and he thinks he is a superhero and can withstand pain that would make other men cry.” 

Felicity laughed quietly because she could tell that Thea was exaggerating a bit out of teasing fondness for her brother. “Well, even if he insists on going home Raisa, you, and I will have to team up and make sure he stays in bed?”

Thea nodded and turned her attention to Daniel and just avoided sounding outright rude when she asked, “Do I know you?” Thea’s voice trailed off waiting for an answer. Felicity realized that Thea had not been introduced to Daniel at the party, and afterwards Felicity was too busy with other things to think of making the introduction. 

“From the club, and my mother is the president of the junior league,” Daniel supplied to save Felicity the effort. It was an answer to Thea’s question, but Felicity knew that the young woman was after more information, specifically information about the Bratva. Thea was nothing if not persistent. 

“Digg will you make sure we aren’t disturbed?” Dig nodded and moved to the door. Felicity was sure in the course of the evening she had already made some bad choices regarding discussing the Bratva in public.There was no reason to be stupid now, especially since she planned on telling Thea about her family. 

Felicity added the answer Thea wanted, “Daniel is my best friend and his father is the other Bratva captain in Starling.” During their shopping date, Felicity had told Thea the general structure of the Bratva in the States and explained what the various titles meant so she knew Thea would understand Daniel’s position. 

“Is the Bratva everywhere including the country club?” muttered Thea. Felicity couldn’t help but laugh at Thea’s rampant consternation. She didn’t want to belittle Thea’s annoyance or ignore Thea’s discomfort with her ignorance about the Bratva, but Thea in a mood was amusing in the same way a wet cat was funny. Felicity knew it wasn’t kind, but that unkindness wouldn’t bother Thea. 

“We are like bedbugs--hard to see and harder to get rid of,” quipped Daniel. Thea rolled her eyes at Daniel’s bad joke. 

“Lovely image, Daniel,” Felicity sighed as she sat in the chair that Daniel put next to Oliver’s bed for her. she turned her attention back to Oliver’s sister, “Thea honestly it’s a weird coincidence that Daniel and his family travel in the same circle as you. And, anyway, part of the Bratva is keeping a low profile. It is dangerous when you do things that call attention to the organization. 

“You and Ollie both said that when you refused to answer my questions, and look it’s Oliver who got shot,” snorted Thea. Felicity had to admit that Thea had a point. The attempt on Oliver’s life had been anything but subtle.

“Even if you keep your mouth shut, it’s dangerous to be part of the Bratva.” Felicity said as her gaze lingered on Oliver’s bandages. “Your brother and I were trying to protect you, but you need to understand what the Bratva is. You need to understand what we mean when we say it is dangerous.”

Felicity didn’t look at Daniel or Diggle. She didn’t want to see the sympathy that she knew would be in their eyes. Instead she took a deep breath, and forced words out with the exhale.“The best way to explain how dangerous the Bratva can be, Thea, is to tell you about my family. About my uncles.”

Felicity took Oliver’s motionless hand. He was still sleeping, and maybe it was selfish to tell this story here, possibly disturb his rest, and upset his healing, but Felicity didn’t know if she could tell it without him though. 

Felicity had never actually told this story to anyone before. She had learned it first by putting together passing remarks and sad asides until she had an idea that something bad had happened. As a teenager, she found all the pieces of the story with Google’s help, and then filled in the gaps by tracking down confidential police reports. If Felicity was honest with herself, she learned to hack a secure system because she had wanted to learn what had happened to her mother. Felicity had wanted to know exactly what destroyed her mother’s life and sent her into hiding in Las Vegas. It took years for Felicity to find someone to tell her the story, and then Deda’s second told her only because he was too far in his cups to stop when she poked and prodded. 

Donna would have never told her this story. Not when Felicity was a child, and not now, even though Donna still tried to keep Felicity from embracing the Bratva. When Felicity was growing up Donna might mention something about how Anton liked to eat his cereal without milk, or that Paul named their pet cat Bob. But Donna never said what happened to her brothers. She never explained why they didn’t send Felicity birthday cards, or why she couldn’t invite them to her soccer games. 

Donna might bring them up, but Felicity learned early on not ask about them. A question about whether Anton liked applesauce or sour cream more with his latkes, or what was Paul’s favorite book would make Donna’s smile disappear and her color fade behind the makeup she always wore. As a kid, Felicity burned with curiosity, she positively overflowed with questions about her uncles, about Donna’s life before Las Vegas, but she learned to contain those queries and to suppress her interest. 

Sometimes Felicity wondered if her special way with words was a result of spending her childhood trying to avoid verbal landmines and hidden pitfalls. Her brain overcompensated, and to make sure that she never wandered off an oral cliff with her mother, instead she always said the wrong words, the most embarrassing thing, or inane musings that called into question her intelligence and sanity. All the things she might utter that would make other people uncomfortable were fine compared to asking Donna about Anton and Paul.

Felicity thought about it for a bit, and realized she needed to start farther back. “It’s important to understand how my deda became pakhan,” Felicity explained. She had seen pictures of Leo as a kid during the war, and then a punk teenager in the fifties. He had a sort West Side Story vibe to him. He had been kind of scrawny, but with clear chutzpah and charisma that the camera captured. 

It was hard to describe him to Thea, but Felicity tried. “My grandfather wasn’t born into the Bratva, but he was a punk ass Russian kid who grew up in the right part of Brighton Beach. He knew about the Bratva, everyone there did. Many of them used it to get money and messages to their families during the war.” 

Deda had been born in the states, but both his parents had emigrated from near Odessa after World War I. He had been a late child, something of a miracle for his parents, as Deda liked to say. Felicity always figured they deserved a miracle since both of them lost their families in the Holocaust. Leo didn’t talk about it much, he and Donna shared the same tendency to close up when things got emotional. As far as Felicity could figure out, World War II broke his parents’ hearts. They died before Leo was seventeen, leaving him alone. 

Thea listened careful, and Felicity appreciated her patience as she continued “Deda didn’t do well in school and he didn’t have anyone who cared about him. The Bratva seemed like a way he could make something of himself and get the family he wanted.” Leo never acted like he had been a moral person before the Bratva, but he also acknowledged that he had been more than willing to do what was necessary to fit in--to belong. 

Thea nodded, as Felicity went on, “It was a good fit. He could sell sand in the desert, and make a killing at it too. That is how he got started with the Bratva--selling their illegal goods.” 

According to the other old timers in Brighton Beach, Deda’s salesmanship had been an important reason he advanced, but what had really set him apart from the other men were his ice cold nerves and inherent caution. Leo didn’t scare and he didn’t panic, but he also was meticulous about planning and avoiding unnecessary risks. It was an odd combination. Leo was the type of person who wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a cliff, but only after making sure he had on safety gear and a back-up parachute.

“Deda knew when to take big risks, and when to step back,” Felicity added as she kept describing her grandfather. “Its why he kept advancing in the Bratva. By the time my mother started kindergarten, he was one of the old pakhan’s seconds. The Bratva was different then. There was lots of infighting, and the pakhan didn’t stop it.”

Felicity personally thought that Alec Rabin had been too insecure, impulsive, and paranoid to be pakhan. Felicity conceded that a certain amount of paranoia was healthy when one was dealing with ambitious, violent people like the Bratva. However, Rabin’s insecurity meant that he prefered to surround himself with people who agreed with him. He was inconsistent with enforcing rules, and well known for giving preferential treatment to people he liked. 

Rabin’s behavior would have sat badly with Deda for no other reason than Leo was notorious for being fair. Rabin though had also been threatened by Deda’s success and popularity. Baba talked about that time in her life with clipped discomfort that convinced Felicity more than anything else that Leo had really been in danger. 

“The pakhan didn’t really like my deda, but Deda was too successful, too popular, and too smart to be ignored. It’s why he was the pakhan’s second even though the pakhan tried to have him killed.” 

At this revelation Thea perked up, but didn’t move much so Roy could keep sleeping. Thea didn’t realize that Roy had already woken up, probably from Felicity telling the story, but he didn’t look like he wanted to move. He was also engrossed in the story. Thea started to listen more attentively, and Felicity responded by putting more thought into telling her what happened.

“The first attempt was meant to look like an accident.” As if cut brakes were ever an accident, but Rabin assumed no one would look to closely. She continued, “The second attempt was more suspicious. There was no reason that the enforcer who was challenging Leo should have known that he was suppose to be meeting with the pakhan unless the pakhan told him.” 

Felicity did not get into the details with Thea. There was no real reason to tell her it was exactly the sort of heavy handed, badly planned idea that Rabin favored. It never occurred to him that if Leo survived he would know Rabin was trying to kill him.

“Leo didn’t like it, but it was my baba who refused any compromise with Rabin, and insisted that he had gone too far,” Felicity told Thea. “Baba didn’t exactly care who replaced Rabin, so long as my deda was safe.” Felicity shrugged. “The only person who had a chance at gathering enough support was Leo. If Rabin had left him alone, Baba would never have taken issue with him.”

“I get that being head honcho and in the mob makes you a target. I’ve seen GoodFellas and Game of Thrones,” Thea interrupted.

Felicity shook her head, “You need to understand how Deda became pakhan to comprehend why my uncles were killed.” Thea’s cheeks paled and her lips thinned. She hadn’t realized that this story was about Paul and Anton. Thea had no reason to even know that Paul and Anton existed. 

“The thing is most pakhans take office like Deda did--they kill the old pakhan. Sometimes it takes years before it all settles out. It took three years, and basically a war, before Deda really took power. It is a hard cycle to break, but Deda tried.” Felicity paused and gave herself a moment. This was where the story got hard and complicated. “When Deda really became pakhan Anton and Paul were teenagers My mother was the baby. She and Paul were very close since Anton was always busy with school, and Deda and Baba had to deal with the Bratva.” 

“No one ever went after my mom or uncles, but Deda worried about them. He was challenged twice, and once someone put a hit out on my grandmother. Each time Deda killed the men threatening him.” Felicity would not minimize the fact that her grandfather held his position because he used violence decisively. She couldn’t decide how much detail Thea really needed about the Bratva, but if the point was to prove that the Bratva was dangerous, ruthless, and serious as a gunshot then Felicity needed to give her some reference. 

“After a while things did settle down. It was clear to everyone with eyes and half a brain that Anton was being groomed to take over. Deda made him go to college, and Anton was the one who decided to go to Harvard Law.” At this fact Thea started to laugh, and Felicity joined her in giggling. “I guess he figured the best way to avoid getting caught was to understand how the law worked. Anton was well liked. Easygoing, trusting, book smart and street savvy, but mostly people remember him for being ruthlessly competitive. Most people thought he would be a good pakhan. My mother spent her time dancing and trying to get out from Baba’s hovering. Paul was the problem.”

Baba and Deda weren’t the type to forget about Paul. They still had pictures of him on the ferris wheel at Coney Island with his siblings, all his school photos, and a family portrait from his Bar Mitzvah. If you walked around their home there were no clues about what Paul did. The only hint was that the photos ended with pictures of young man, who looked like Deda except for his very 70’s hair. 

“He had all of Deda’s ambition, but none of his work ethic; all of Baba’s conniving and none of her loyalty. And Paul definitely didn’t have either of their smarts. He wanted to be pakhan.” 

Felicity’s voice trailed off at the end. She needed to focus on something real for a second. Something that wasn’t her family’s worst nightmare. She let herself run her fingers over Oliver’s knuckles and rub his palm. His skin was rougher than hers, with calluses that had nothing to do with a keyboard. She could feel stress seeping out of her as his color improved. As horrible as this night had been, it could have been so much worse. 

Thea spoke up, “It sounds like Paul was a bit like Ollie, before our dad died.”

Felicity nodded because there were certain similarities. Whoever made sure Oliver ended up under Anatoly had done the young man and the Queen family a huge favor. Anatoly was many things and one of his better qualities was as a teacher and leader. He wasn’t an easy man to please, but he returned his men’s loyalty completely and did everything in his power to help them. Deda trusted Anatoly’s opinion of someone’s character completely. It spoke volumes about Oliver that Anatoly hadn’t written him off to begin with. It also spoke volumes about Oliver that he learned from Anatoly. 

“Maybe. You’re brother was aimless, and spoiled, but he also respected hard work and was loyal. No one would’ve ever said that about Paul,” Felicity explained before returning to the thread of her story. “I don’t know if Paul was gullible, or just blinded by his stupidity and ambition. Anyway, one of the captains who sat back, and avoided the succession war, reached out to Paul. The captain was...well let’s say he wasn’t very nice.” 

Deda and Baba hadn’t liked it, but there was nothing suspicious about it. Paul was a student at UCLA. It made sense that Lapin, LA’s captain would invite the pakhan’s son to dinner, and introduce him to certain types of clubs and people. Paul of course enjoyed the attention, and didn’t question why he was being given drugs, introduced to women who threw themselves at him, or treated like he was the captain’s equal. 

“Leo was wary of the captain, for good reason,” Felicity sighed. “Paul wasn’t exactly a rocket scientist, but he did know a lot about Deda’s business. The captain cleverly manipulated Paul so he revealed this information.”

Deda started losing shipments, contacts in Russia refused to work with him, captains got better deals with the Triad than the prices Deda could offer, men he trusted were busted and locked up or worse killed. Leo knew something was up, that much bad luck was odd, but he never could figure out if there was a leak, or who was using the information. The captain had been careful to never benefit more than anyone else. 

“Do you want me to tell the rest?” Daniel asked. Felicity shook her head. She must have been silent for too long. 

She spoke directly to Thea, “This is a hard story for me to tell. I am sorry if pause too much.”

“It’s okay. No where else I would rather be tonight.” Thea reassured Felicity. 

Felicity smiled her thanks, and continued, “Deda kept encountering problems. Insidious little issues that weakened his position more than any of the direct attacks that he had fended off before. He expected violence to follow. It’s too easy for some unhappy captain, or ambitious second to unseat a pakhan in Leo’s position.”

“Anton tried to help Deda when he was at school, but they couldn’t figure out what was going on. Anton kept taking the train home on weekends. As things go worse, Deda worried about everyone’s safety, but he worried about Anton’s the most. Deda knew that no one would support him if he couldn’t keep Anton safe.”

Felicity bit her lip. She hadn’t really thought about it, but if she followed through on Daniel’s plan, like she had implied to Maksim earlier, she would be a target for the rest of her life. Oh it wasn’t like being the president’s kid or Prince William, but she would be anonymous either. Mostly she would have to accept that her security was going to be a little more involved than living in a building with a doorman. The part that was harder to swallow was that she would be making this choice for those closest to her too. 

“This whole be a part of the pakhan’s family thing is a lot like being a Queen.” Thea observed. “Did you know that Oliver was kidnapped when he was fourteen?”

“I thought it was an attempt.” Felicity answered. She remembered Lance referring to an attempted kidnapping.

Thea shrugged, “I would say that it was more than an attempt. We didn’t have to have personal security at school, but something changed when Ollie started highschool and if we left campus we were suppose to have a bodyguard. Oliver didn’t like that rule.”

Felicity smiled because she could imagine how much that rule annoyed him. Thea continued, “He and Laurel used to cut their last class and go to a park a couple of blocks away. I think Oliver just liked feeling normal. Laurel liked pissing off her parents.” 

Felicity and Thea shared a small smile. Laurel did seem to enjoy rubbing people the wrong way. “Anyway, one day a bunch of men tried to grab Oliver on their walk there.”

Daniel had been standing with Digg in the corner. Both had been listening to her tell the story, but they knew what happened unlike Thea. Daniel’s eyes had lulled shut several times and Felicity had been certain that he was going to fall asleep on his feet. However, when Thea started to talk about Ollie almost being kidnapped his eyelids slide up and his lips twitched like he was all of a sudden making a connection between disparate facts.

Thea didn’t add anything else, but Felicity needed to know what happened. “Was that it?”

Thea shook her head, “No, they actually did grab Oliver and dragged him into their van. Laurel broke one their knees, and fought them off so the couldn’t grab her.” Felicity’s eyebrows shot up at that part. Thea laughed, “Yeah, their dad is kind of a worrywort. Both girls started martial arts classes when they were like three. Laurel doesn’t really like to throw punches, but if she does stand back. She and Sara are total badasses.”

Sara nodded, “My sister’s sharpest weapon is her tongue, but she knows what to do in a fight.”

Well that explained a certain amount of Sara’s martial arts skill, and while Anatoly said that she was the better fighter when she and Oliver first arrived in Russia. Felicity prompted Thea to keep going, “What happened?”

“I don’t really know,” Thea said. “I guess Laurel called my dad first, by the time her father got there. Dad had already spoken with the kidnappers. I don’t really know what happened, but I know our dad got Ollie back without the police’s help. Laurel and Ollie can tell you more about it. ” 

Sara shrugged, “Neither of them ever told me what really happened.”

It had been obvious that Lance did not like Oliver at the interview last week, and at this point Felicity figured he had more than a few good reasons for his feelings. She had to imagine that it really bothered Lance that the Queen family was more than willing to disregard the law. Robert Queen either got Oliver back by paying the kidnappers, or by killing them. Neither of those options were things that would make a police officer happy. She assumed it was the former because Robert Queen didn’t seem to have a lot of connections with the underworld. And, it would require connections like that to quickly track down a team of kidnappers, and then take them on, even with a security team as good as the Queens’.

“Has anything like that happened to you?” Felicity asked. She must have not made it sound deceptively casual like she intended because Thea gave her a sharp look. Felicity might not be as openly protective as Oliver, but she knew with an absolute certainty that she would never let anyone hurt Thea. 

Thea shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

Felicity made a mental note to find out at another time what Thea meant by that non-answer. “You will tell me immediately if there is anything weird or that makes you feel uncomfortable.” Felicity commanded.

Thea rolled her eyes, with what Felicity was beginning to recognize as fond consternation. “You and Ollie can form a little club--The Theacopters!”

Everyone in the room laughed at Thea’s bad pun. Felicity agreed, “Point taken, but seriously--

“Yeah, I get it. You are crazy overprotective because something really bad happened to your Uncle Anton,” Thea said. 

“It’s more what happened to my Uncle Anton because of my Uncle Paul,” Felicity clarified. “Anton was responsible about everything except his personal security. Like Oliver he wanted to be normal.” 

Felicity suspected that Anton also thought he was stronger and more impervious to injury than he really was. It was to get lulled into thinking you were safe. Before Connor got arrested she had thought she was safe sitting at her computer and hacking in her pajamas. Two weeks ago she thought she was safe dabbling in the Bratva when not at work. Felicity knew that Anton wasn’t the only one to make that mistake. 

She continued, “Paul didn’t think much about telling his friends that. Or mentioning that Anton and his girlfriend always went to the same restaurant for dinner on Thursdays.”

Felicity stopped and sighed. It seemed so obvious to her and yet Paul had been a complete idiot and missed that he was being used. Felicity took a moment to roll her shoulders and try to relax. She was already tense and she hadn’t gotten to the worse part. 

“Anton was killed wasn’t he?” Thea asked quietly.

“Yes. On a Thursday after dinner. He and his girlfriend were walking to his car when they were mugged. The mugger had a gun and shot both of them.” It took all of Felicity’s strength to tell Thea the bare facts of what happened. 

“It wasn’t just some random mugging, was it?” Sara interrupted. Felicity startled because she had forgotten that Sara was still in the room.

“No.” Felicity tried to keep her voice calm and unemotional. “It wasn’t some random mugging. Deda figured that out pretty quickly. It took more work for him to figure out that Lapin was behind it, and even then Deda’s proof wasn’t enough to convince many of the other captains, especially given his weak hold on his position. When Deda was sure he told Paul, and he told Paul that Lapin had clearly been getting information from someone who was suppose to be loyal to Deda.” Felicity voice trembled slightly, but she kept going. “Paul refused to believe Deda, and he blamed Deda’s second Stan. Paul said that Stan wanted to be pakhan.”

“I still think Paul was switched at birth.” Daniel spoke while Felicity took a breath. Maksim had been one of the captains who did believe Deda and never questioned Stan’s loyalty, but Maksim had also been new to his position and in the midst of planning a society wedding. He hadn’t been able to offer Deda much support. Dan shook his head as he continued, “I can’t believe any member of your family would be such a fucking waste of space.” 

Felicity smiled wanly at Daniel. She knew that he was trying to her a moment to get control of her feelings.

“I think Paul was too scared to admit that it was his fault. Easier to just keep screwing up than to try and grow up,” Felicity explained to Thea and Roy. “Whatever Paul’s motivation, it put Deda in a pretty difficult position. Anything he did to Lapin would only make things worse with Paul, and even though he trusted Stan, people wondered when Paul tried to punch him at Anton’s funeral.”

There had never been a question that Deda and Baba would try and have Lapin killed once they knew he was behind Anton’s murder. Lapin hadn’t been an easy target before he started undermining Deda. Once Lapin started to chip away at Deda’s position, he had brought on more enforcers, increased his personal security, and developed an almost unhealthy level of paranoia. Lapin knew Deda was a dangerous enemy and he had planned ahead, and developed contingencies. 

“Deda and Baba didn’t know what to do.” Felicity said, though she didn’t think that her words really conveyed how desperate they had felt. “One of Lapin’s enforcers use to work for Deda. They didn’t trust him, but Zakharov was an opportunist.” 

Felicity didn’t add that Zakharov was also devoid of all loyalty and anything resembling a moral code. Felicity wasn’t sure exactly who thought to go to him for help since it was akin to making a deal with the devil. Baba hated him, but she was wilier; Deda was more pragmatic, but never liked to deal with people who were willing to switch sides simply for more money and power. 

This was where it got complicated, and Felicity didn’t want to tell the rest of the story. Anton’s death was horrible, it broke Baba’s heart and made Deda an old man overnight according to Stan, but it was what happened afterwards that caused Donna to run away. 

“More importantly Zakharov was ambitious, and Deda knew that.” Felicity explained. 

“Your grandfather promised Zakharov, Lapin’s position in return for his help overthrowing Lapin,” Thea interrupted. 

Felicity nodded at Thea’s correct conclusion. “Basically, yes.” Zakharov certainly could have overthrown Lapin without Deda’s help, but doing it with Deda’s approval assured Zakharov that his new position wouldn’t be challenged by the other captains or another enforcer looking to get promoted. 

“As I said, I watched a lot of Game of Thrones, and honestly there is a certain similarity to how corporate boards functions.” Thea shrugged, “My step-dad tells me a lot about his work.”

“I’ve always said the Bratva is a multi-industry conglomerate,” Dan chimed in. “Felicity’s grandfather agrees with me.” 

Felicity had heard their conversations on the topic several times. Deda found Dan’s analysis so interesting that he had gently been suggesting that Felicity attend business school for the last year. It had seemed like a lightly veiled attempt to get her to move to New York, but, maybe he was trying to give her additional training. 

“That makes sense, but it doesn’t explain what happened to Felicity’s uncle,” Thea observed. 

“No, it doesn’t.” Felicity agreed. “Zakharov immediately started to remove Lapin’s strongest supporters from within their Bratva cell. He has always been creative with his tactics. One man was killed when he was served a dish with peanuts in it, even though the he was a regular at the restaurant and the chef knew about the allergy.”

“The impressive part of that hit, wasn’t the planning to get peanuts into the dish. It was the fact that Ohler’s epi-pen failed and that it took an ambulance almost twenty minutes to reach the restaurant,” Dan added when it was clear Felicity wasn’t going to get into the real specifics. 

“Zakharov is brilliant at controlling all potential outcomes in his favor.” Felicity noted. “The one that I find the most impressive is that he somehow managed to get another fellow’s wife to shoot him when she found out about his girlfriend, or he figured out how to pin the murder on her.” Felicity shook her head, and got back to the thread of her story. “Needless to say, it didn’t take long for Zakharov and Deda to back Lapin into a corner, so Lapin played his ace.”

Lapin’s plan relied on Paul being an idiot, which sadly he was. Dan was right about wondering if Paul had been switched at birth, but he looked so much like Deda, except with Baba’s nose that there was no question that he was a Zalutsky.

“Lapin arranged for Paul to be pulled over for a speeding ticket. I don’t know what reasonable suspicion the officer had to search the car, but when he did he found almost of pound of cocaine, and a gun that had been used in the murder of one of the local Mexican gang leader’s son.”

“What happened?” Asked Roy, when Felicity paused to take a breath. 

“You’re awake?” Thea asked while she shifted to get more comfortable since she had clearly been holding still for a sleeping Roy.

“Have been for awhile. Everyone whispers what happened to the Zalutsky boys, but I’ve never actually heard the whole story,” Roy answered, before turning his attention back to Felicity. 

Those whispers were one of the reasons Felicity had always kept a distance from her grandparents associates. Her family’s tragedy was still popular gossip fodder, and there had never been a good enough reason to throw herself into the sea with the other sharks when she knew her past was blood in the water. 

Until now. 

Listening to the steady beeps of the machine monitoring Oliver’s heart rate, Felicity was more than ready to jump into the deep end of the sea and swim with sharks if it would keep Oliver safe. 

“Roy’s right. People do talk about my family, and they don’t usually comment on the nice things. I am sure you understand what that feels like.” Thea nodded once with more respect than she had shown Felicity before. “Lapin was a native Angelino. His grandfather was one of the first tailors to set up shop there, and as a result Lapin knew everyone.” 

The adrenaline was really ebbing and Felicity could feel the thread of her story getting lost in her exhaustion. It was almost over. She took a deep breath, and continued. “It was easy for him to make sure that the police and prosecutor’s office would contrive to keep Paul in custody unless Lapin told them to let him out. He knew Paul wasn’t strong enough to handle the threat of prison. Lapin assumed Deda and Baba would be willing to bargain and turn against Zakharov to get Paul released since they didn’t have anyone on the take in LA.”

“Lapin was wrong wasn’t he?” Sara asked. “He didn’t realize how ruthless your grandparents are. Anatoly always said that your grandfather was the single coldest person he had ever met.”

“Deda didn’t have quite the same reputation back then,” Felicity clarified. “But, yes Lapin was wrong. Deda and Baba refused to bargain with him. They didn’t want Paul to get hurt, but Paul was the one who listened to Lapin, and Deda knew that Paul was the person who gave Lapin the information that got Anton killed. He supported Zakharov who killed Lapin, and Deda did nothing to get Paul out of jail.” 

“Is that why people think your Deda is so scary? Because he was unwilling to help his asshat of a son?” Thea inquired. 

“It’s not that he was unwilling to help Paul since most people in the Bratva understood that choice given Paul’s behavior,” Felicity answered quickly. “When Paul found out my grandparents wouldn’t bargain with Lapin for his release, and that Zakharov killed him before securing Paul’s release, Paul must have realized he was just a pawn to Lapin, and that his parents weren’t going to help him.”

It must have been a chilling realization for Paul. Dan thought he was a waste of space, and no one ever said Paul was particularly smart, but everyone who knew him said he charming and fun, never mean-spirited, though impulsive and spoiled.

“Paul decided he needed help--someone in his corner, so he made a deal with the FBI. He would enter witness protection and in exchange he would tell the FBI everything he knew about the Bratva.”

In one move Paul proved exactly how little he understood about the Bratva, but even if he didn’t understand the organization he knew plenty about it. Anton might have been the one Deda was grooming to be his heir but that didn’t mean that Paul wasn’t included in the business. The FBI must have been thrilled. They would’ve known that Paul was more than just some random enforcer. 

“Is that why your uncle Paul isn’t line to be pakhan? He’s in witness protection?” Thea asked. 

Felicity gave the young woman a long hard look, “Thea what did I tell you the first rule of the Bratva is?”

Thea answered immediately, “Don’t talk to the police.” As she spoke her cheeks lost their color and her voice trailed off. “Paul was killed, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Who gave the order?” Though based on Thea’s tone she knew the answer to her question. 

“Deda, though Zakharov arranged the details. Deda is pakhan, and it’s his job to clean up messes like Paul.” Felicity spoke firmly and refused to let her voice shake, but it wasn’t an easy thing to say. It was that choice that made Donna renounce her parents, and run away to Vegas to marry the first man she could convince to ask her. 

Thea didn’t say anything for several long moments, “Being pakhan’s not just a fun title is it?”

“No.” 

Felicity had known that for many years, and she hadn’t hesitated for a second when she told Maksim that she was in this race to win. Two weeks ago she would’ve told anyone that asked that she never dreamt of being pakhan, and she would’ve quickly added that she didn’t want to be either. 

Thea nodded, “I knew you and Oliver were trying to protect me. I guess I can be like your Uncle Paul. Sort of impulsive and I can make bad choices when I am angry or hurt.”

Felicity smiled at Thea, “It’s hard not to make bad choices when emotions are running high.”

“True, but that won’t keep me safe in the Bratva will it?”

“No,” Felicity answered. “it’s why you have to understand that the Bratva is more than just fun games.”

“I think I understand, or I understand better than I did before.” Thea looked her brother, and at Felicity still holding his hand. “You’re going to make sure whoever shot my brother regrets that decision, aren’t you?” 

Felicity could hear the new level of respect in Thea’s voice. Felicity had never understood how Deda could so ruthlessly consider murder before. Now she understood that the decision wasn’t very hard when it was to keep someone you loved safe. “Yes.”

“Good,” Thea nodded as though the matter was settled. “I told Raisa that you would probably want to stay here with Oliver. She sent over some more comfortable clothes for you.” Thea gestured a small overnight bag that was next to her chair. 

“You’re right, and thanks.” Felicity replied. “Are you going to stay?”

Thea smiled slightly, “No, you seem to have everything handled here. I’ll come back in the morning and I will bring good coffee.” Thea stood and began to gather her things. She came over to Felicity and bent down to give her a hug. “Thanks for telling me about your family. I know its suppose to be a lesson for me, but it couldn’t have been easy for you. I really appreciate it.”

Felicity returned Thea’s hug. “Your brother and I might hover, but we do it because we care.”

“I know that.” Thea responded with all of her normal attitude making Felicity grin. Thea pressed a kiss to Oliver’s brow before taking Roy’s hand and walking to the door that Diggle was still guarding. 

“I’ll be right behind you, wait for me at the elevator.” Diggle said as he opened the door for Thea and Roy. Roy nodded and closed the door behind them. “I’m going to take them home and meet with the men Maksim is sending over and then I will be back. Do you want anything else from the Mansion?”

“No, thanks for asking,” Felicity wanted to add that Digg should stay at the Mansion and try to get a decent night’s sleep, but she knew that he would never do that as long as Oliver was injured. 

“Sara will be here if you need anything.” Digg said as he also left the room. 

Dan stood up and stretched, “I’m heading home too. Let me know when your grandparents get in.”

“Dinner tomorrow?” Felicity asked. “I am sure they will want to see you.”

“I’m available if they feel up to it.” Dan gave her a hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Call me, for dinner or if you need anything. And, you really did look stunning tonight.”

“Thanks.” Sara had moved to Digg’s old position next to the door. She let Dan out, before saying, “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

“You can stay.” Sara was good company. She knew when to be silent and when to be silly. 

“You and Ollie deserve a little privacy,” Sara said as she followed Dan out, closing the door and turning down the lights, leaving Felicity alone with Oliver. 

“How long have you been awake?” Felicity asked.

Oliver opened his eyes slowly and with some clear effort smiled at her. “Just for the tail end of your story. You didn’t have to tell Thea about your family.”

Felicity brushed his hair off his forehead. Oliver relaxed into her touch, and she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Yes, I did. She needs to understand how merciless the Bratva can be.”

Oliver nodded slightly, and asked with evident curiosity. “The men Maksim is sending to the manor?”

Felicity sighed. Of course Oliver would remember what Digg said. “We needed more security. I made a deal with Maksim.”

“Really? What did you offer him?” Oliver tried not to sound concern, but Felicity could see the worry at the corner of his eyes. 

“Who ever shot you made it look like Maksim was the one who ordered it.” Felicity explained. She knew Oliver would fill in the rest of the details. 

“Enemy of my enemy?”

“Basically. We can talk about it more when you are feeling better. I’m going to go change out of this dress and then we should both get some sleep. My grandparents are arriving tomorrow.” Felicity stood up and walked over to the bag that Thea had left for her before heading to the attached bathroom. 

“Their worried about you.” Oliver didn’t sound surprised that Leo and Sophie were coming to Starling in light of his getting shot. 

“You could change in here.” Oliver added, with a hint of his normal charm. 

“Looking for some cheap thrills?” Felicity amusedly asked while glancing at the door to the room. 

Oliver laughed weakly, “Cheap thrills are all I can handle right now, and you know Sara isn’t going to let anyone in here unannounced.”

 

Felicity hesitated, and Oliver grinned just a little bit wider. He knew she was thinking about it. 

“Do you always get everything you want?” Felicity asked exasperatedly as she stepped out of her heels, and started to slip off John’s jacket. 

“I am a handsome billionaire playboy.”

Felicity laughed and turned her back to him. She pushed the dress straps down her arms and let the gown drop to the floor leaving her in only an emerald green thong. She tried to ignore the hitch in Oliver’s breathing as she took off the earrings and her other jewelry and carefully put them in the pocket of the bag. Felicity focused on not blushing as she pulled the old MIT t-shirt over her head, and slipped on the soft flannel pajama pants that were in the bag. She pulled the pins out of her hair and gave her head a good shake before she turned around to see Oliver watching her intently.

“Thrilling enough for you?” Felicity asked as she started to pull two chairs together. It wouldn’t be comfortable but she would survive one night of bad sleep.

“Are those Care Bear pajamas? And what are you doing?” 

“Trying to decide what will be the least uncomfortable way to sleep.” Felicity commented as she studied the chairs. “Maybe I should see if they can bring in a cot.”

“Come here,” Oliver said as he started to scoot to one side of the hospital bed.

“Oliver, you’re recovering from surgery! I might hurt you.” Felicity exclaimed as she stepped closer to his bed. 

“I’ve been shot before Felicity,” Oliver responded calmly, “and I will sleep better if you are here. I promise.” He reached out and pulled her to him. “Please.”

Felicity sighed at his impressive puppy dog eyes. “You being shot before is not actually that comforting. And, okay, but if we get yelled at by your doctors I am blaming you.” Felicity said as she settled under the covers next to Oliver, and gently curled around him. 

“I can live with that,” he whispered as he kissed her hair. “Go to sleep.”


End file.
